Prisoner of the Mind
by mistopurr
Summary: PREQUEL to 'A Brother's Jealousy'. When a terrible tradgedy occurs in Mirkwood, it changes everything for a once perfect family. Nothing will ever be the same again.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: Well, here I am, back with the prequel to 'A Brother's Jealousy'! I have to apologise for the delay in putting it up. See, I went to Gran Canaria for two weeks, and then I went to Portugal and only got back today. So, for all of you who have been waiting for this, here it is!

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The sun had already risen high in the sky, and every single inhabitant of Mirkwood had been awake for just over three hours. Or rather, nearly every single inhabitant. A golden haired Elfling still slept deeply, his corn-coloured tresses covering his face. It was none other than little Prince Legolas, youngest son of King Thranduil and Queen Findilan.

The door to his chamber slowly and quietly opened just then, though the sleeping child remained in blissful slumber. The newcomer crept over to the side of the bed and looked down at the Elfling for only a brief moment, before pouncing.

"Ahh! Ada! Nana! Ada! Na-!" Legolas was cut off as a hand was placed over his mouth. He looked up with fearful blue eyes, though he relaxed when he saw who his attacker was.

"Good morning," said Calaen cheerfully, pulling his hand away.

The middle Prince of Mirkwood could not be any different from Legolas, even if he tried. With hair the colour of midnight, and eyes of a deep emerald colour which sparkled if he was happy or flashed if he was angry, Calaen was thirteen years old – mortally speaking, of course – and was often looked upon with wonder in Mirkwood. After all, there were not many Elves in that Realm who had his darker colours.

Legolas stared up at his elder brother for a moment, before narrowing his eyes. "I was asleep."

"Yes, because you are lazy."

"I am not," muttered Legolas. "I was tired. I still am."

Calaen smiled, though now it was grim and without humour. "Hmm. I actually came in here because I want to talk to you. What did you do last night?"

"I...I don't know," Legolas replied. "Why?"

"Just try and remember."

The Elfling reached across and absent-mindedly began playing with his brother's hair, as he always did. ""Well, I was in the family chambers with Ada and Nana, and they were talking and I fell asleep because it was boring. Then Airëlus came in and brought me back here."

"How about if I rephrase the question? What did you _not _do last night?" asked Calaen.

"I don't..." Legolas trailed off as realisation dawned. "Oh."

Calaen nodded slowly. "Yes. Oh."

"But I was too tired," protested the Elfling, backing away to the corner of his bed. "I was falling asleep again even as I got changed. No, don't!"

Legolas' defence against himself did not go accordingly, though, for Calaen lunged forwards and held his brother's wrists up above his head as he started the attack. The child screwed up his eyes and tried not to make a noise, though he couldn't help crying out.

"Cal, stop tickling me," he breathed. "Please, stop!"

The dark haired Elf merely shook his head and moved one hand down to his younger brother's chest. This was an especially sensitive area for Legolas, and tears of laughter fell from his eyes as he tried to pull away from Calaen.

"What is going on in here?" came a sudden demanding voice from over in the doorway.

"Ada!" cried Legolas, rolling out from under his brother's body, and leaping over into his father's arms.

"Calaen, what in all of Arda have you done to my Elfling?" asked Thranduil, staring at Legolas' flushed cheeks and untidy hair.

Still on the bed, the Prince rolled onto his stomach, and laughed. "Greenleaf normally comes into my room before he goes to sleep so that we can spend some time together. We talk about what he did in his day, and I tell him about my weapons training, and the things that he is yet too young to do."

"Yes, it is the only time that we get to spend alone," Legolas added.

"Indeed," said Thranduil. "But that does not explain why you were trying to kill him, Calaen."

"Ah, I was not trying to do that, Ada," protested the dark haired Elf. "It is just that he did not come and see me last night, and I was sat up for a whole age and a half waiting for him, though he had better things to do, like satisfying his laziness, so I...I tickled him to get him back for keeping me awake."

"Ai, Elflings," Thranduil muttered.

"Ada, I am no Elfling," Calaen said hotly. "Just because I act like one, it does not mean that I _am _one."

"Is that so?" asked Thranduil, arching an eyebrow as he sat on the bed. "Well, you could have fooled me. And half of Mirkwood."

Calaen merely laughed good-naturedly. "You were a child once."

Legolas snapped his head up, and stared at the King in wonder. "Ada, is that true?"

"Well, of course it is no lie. Everyone has a childhood, ion-nin," replied Thranduil, concealing a smile. "Why did you ask that?"

"I just cannot imagine you ever being the same size or age as I am now," said Legolas. "Was Nana an Elfling?"

"Yes, as were Airëlus and Calaen," replied Thranduil. "In fact, Calaen was an Elfling not that long ago, if you can believe that."

A distant look came into Legolas' eyes, as though he were trying to imagine the rest of his family as mere children. Calaen: that was not hard. He was still a child, really, compared to other Elves in Mirkwood. Airëlus: possible. His parents: no, definitely not. It was quite impossible to imagine something like that.

"Calaen, I don't suppose you could leave us for a while, could you?" asked Thranduil. "I wish to speak with your brother."

The Prince nodded, and leapt off the bed. "Of course. I will see you later, Greenleaf."

"Get changed into your day clothes," Thranduil said to his youngest, whilst his middle son left the room. "You have been wearing your night-tunic for quite long enough."

Legolas slid from his father's arms and over to his oak wardrobe, where he began sorting through various items of clothing. Thranduil watched for a moment, before beginning to pick up toys and garments which littered the floor.

"This is not the room of a Prince. It looks more like a battle field," he muttered. "Valar, I fear that the next tunic I lift up will reveal a baby spider."

"No, I moved the spider into Airëlus' room the other week," said Legolas seriously. "I had to make room."

"For what, exactly?" Thranduil asked, not quite sure whether he actually wished to know.

"The baby Orc," replied Legolas, fumbling with the clasps on his tunic.

The Elven-king blinked in surprise and stared at the Elfling in wonder for a moment, before shaking himself mentally. He also had to try and shake away the dismay he had initially felt at Legolas' comment. "Come over here and let me help you with that. Well, at least you have actually managed to do up the tunic."

Legolas looked down at himself, and smiled at the clasps which were in all the wrong holes. "Oh. Ada, you won't step on the Orc, will you?"

"Step on the...? No, there is no Orc," said Thranduil, as he re-dressed the child.

"Yes, I saw him last night when Airëlus brought me in here," said Legolas.

"You were very tired, so it is more than likely that your eyes were tricked," Thranduil explained, as he turned his son around and began to deftly braid the golden hair at the back of his head.

"No, it was there," remarked the young Prince. "Ada, please do not step on him or kill him, will you? He is too small."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the words. He was not angry because of what Legolas had said. Of course the child was allowed an imagination. The fact that Mirkwood had become so dark that even his youngest son knew of Orcs, was what bothered the King. However, it was also slightly disturbing that they were spoken of with such lightness.

"Ada, you won't kill it, will you?" Legolas asked again.

"No, because there is nothing in this room which needs to be killed," Thranduil said forcefully. "You will not speak of those creatures again. Clearly you do not understand what they are and what it is that they do. If you were aware, I am sure you would think before opening your mouth."

There was silence for a moment, before Legolas said quietly, 'Please do not be angry."

Thranduil let the comment hang in the air whilst he both tied off the braid and calmed himself. Calaen and Airëlus had seen Greenwood, and had lived with its beauty. The Elven-king wanted only the best for his children, all of them, but he knew that Legolas would never have what his two elder brothers had.

"Ada?"

"I am not angry with you," sighed Thranduil, drawing the Elfling close to his body. "Do not think that my anger is always directed at you."

"I don't."

Thranduil sighed again, and moved his son to sit beside him on the bed. "However, there is something I would discuss with you. Your tutor came to speak with me yesterday, when you had finished your lessons."

Legolas lowered his eyes down to the floor. He had been having the Valar-forsaken lessons for just over a month, and although he tried hard to do as his tutor, Ameldir, asked him, he just could not. His mind would wander and he often found it so hard to do whatever tasks he was set.

"Ameldir told me that yesterday, he left the room in the middle of your lessons to find a book," Thranduil continued. "Apparently, he left some important papers on his desk, and when he got back, they were gone. Do you know which papers they would be?"

"Were they...work for me?" asked Legolas quietly.

"Yes. Surprising, hmm?" Thranduil replied. "That is quite coincidental, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," Legolas said, his voice no more than a whisper.

Thranduil nodded slowly, and watched as his son bit down on his lip. "Bring out the papers, Legolas," he said, gently but firmly.

The Prince hesitated only for a moment, before dropping down to the ground and reaching under the bed. As he pulled out the work and got back to his feet, he swallowed nervously. He held it out to Thranduil, but the King merely shook his head.

"I do not want this."

"But you asked me to-

"I am perfectly aware of what I asked you to do, thank you very much for your help," Thranduil cut in, holding up a hand. "Now, do you remember what we were going to do today?"

"We were all going to go out to the green parts of the forest," sighed Legolas. "Me, you, Nana, Calaen and Airëlus."

Thranduil nodded, his expression a regretful one. "We will not be doing that today. Instead, you will go back to Ameldir and do all of this work. If he is satisfied, then we can go out into the forest tomorrow. But _only _if he is satisfied."

"I understand," said Legolas quietly. "But you and Nana, Calaen and Airëlus can go without me. I don't mind."

The Elven-king picked his Elfling up once more, and went across to the door. "No, it would not be complete without you there. Just go and do this work for Ameldir, alright? I know you dislike having lessons, and you would rather be doing something else. However, work has to be as much of your life as play."

"Alright," said Legolas. Yes, he hated his lessons with a passion, but at least he could play in the forest tomorrow.

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Wow, its so weird writing Calaen after doing 'A Brother's Jealousy' and 'Captured by the Past'. Anyway, for those of you who have read those two stories, you all know what happens in the forest, right? Chapters will be up every other day, so I'll see you on...Monday. Had to think about that one!


	2. Chapter 2

Down at the archery fields, bows were strung and arrows were whistling through the air, whilst the sun beat down fiercely on the Elves gathered there. That is, all except one, who was sitting in the shade under a thick leaved tree.

Calaen sat with one knee drawn up to his chest, watching all of the archers wistfully. A book lay beside him, forgotten. He would have loved nothing more than to go and join in with the friendly games, but the company he would be keeping was not company that he would enjoy.

The young Prince was much liked through the Realm, but there was just one group of Elves who had something against him, for reasons that remained unknown. There were maybe seven of them, older than he, and possibly even Airëlus, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood.

They had never done anything to actually physically hurt him, but nasty looks were often thrown his way, cruel words were whispered, and Calaen was often left with taunting laughter ringing in his ears. It seemed as though today would be no different; the group had abandoned their target shooting, and were making their way over to him.

"Good afternoon," Calaen said warily, when they arrived and stood around him.

"Ah, polite as ever," the leader of the group, Berian, sneered.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" asked Calaen, determined not to break eye contact with the older and taller Elf.

Berian laughed, his hair glinting in the sunlight. "Anything that _you _can help _us _with? No, I don't believe there is, actually."

"If that is the case, I must be leaving," Calaen muttered, taking his book and making to stand up. Berian put a hand on his shoulder, though, and held him back.

"Ah, but my friends and I have only just arrived," said the other Elf. "Besides, we merely wish to talk with you. Is there any harm in that?"

"No," Calaen sighed, running a finger absent-mindedly over the spine of his book. It was instantly knocked from his hands, though, and it fell to the ground.

Berian smirked, whilst his friends laughed scornfully. "I said that we wish to talk with you. Anyway, you do not want that book. It looks frightfully awful."

"No more so than your company," muttered Calaen.

The older Elf's eyes flashed, and he caught the younger's wrist in a vicelike grip. "You think yourself to be better than everyone else. You have a title before your name, but that does not make me think any more of you. A Prince, you are? No, you are not."

"Think what you will. But like it or nor, I _am _a Prince of Mirkwood," Calaen snapped.

"I do not know why your father kept you," hissed Berian. "He should have drowned you like a kitten the moment you first drew breath. Yes, he should have done away with you a long time ago. He only keeps you now out of pity. He despises you really, and he has every cause to. After all-

Berian was cut off as the younger Elf pushed him away, and leapt to his feet. Calaen ran through the group of quietly laughing Elves, and sprinted across the archery field towards the Palace, not once looking back.

"I think I upset him," said Berian, feigning regret.

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King Thranduil sat behind his desk, staring at a spot somewhere on the opposite wall. Two men from Laketown stood in front of him, talking with raised voices about...what was it? The Elven-king had switched off a long time back.

'I suppose that is rather negligent,' he thought absent-mindedly. 'I suppose I should take more interest in what they are saying. It could be something very important. Then again, it could not be.'

"My Lord, we simply cannot afford to lose any more of our horses," said one of the men in exasperation.

Ah yes, it was horses that were the subject of discussion. "If you will forgive my asking, but why do you come to me with these troubles?" said Thranduil.

"Because it is your spiders which devour our animals," growled the second man.

The King snapped his eyes up, and regarded the other two coldly. "First of all, they are not _my _spiders. Secondly, I cannot be held responsible for the straying of your animals. You should be more careful with them."

"We need your help," said one of the men through gritted teeth.

"But why come to me instead of going to sort this out with your own chieftain?" asked Thranduil.

"Because it is your...the spiders who are the cause of this," replied the men in exasperated unison.

The Elf looked at them for a moment, before shaking his head. "I sympathise with you, and I am sorry that you are in this situation. However...as King, I have other issues to deal with, and most of them concern my own people. I suggest you talk to your chieftain. If he cannot help you, and _only _if, then you may come back here."

"But we need-

The man was cut off by the door swinging open, and a young, dark haired Elf running in. Thranduil narrowed his eyes slightly at the interruption, whilst the other two inclined their heads to the newcomer.

"Forgive my son," the King said coolly. "He knows that this is the day which I deal with issues of the Realm."

"Oh! Yes, I am so sorry," said Calaen quickly. "I will come back later."

"No, we are finished here," Thranduil said, as the young Elf turned away. "Stay where you are. These two were just about to leave."

"Thank you for your time," muttered the men, as they stalked from the room.

"You are quite welcome," replied the Elven-king. He shook his head slightly, then glanced across at Calaen, who was shifting from one foot to the other, almost uncomfortably, it seemed. Thranduil remained quiet, though, waiting for his son to speak.

Eventually, the Prince said, 'I truly am sorry for bursting in on you like that, Ada. If I had known...that is to say, if I had _remembered _that you had meetings today, I would have waited until later."

"I know, ion-nin," said Thranduil gently. He paused for a moment, regarding the young Elf carefully. "Will you tell me what it is that bothers you?"

Calaen stared at his father in surprise. "How do you know that something troubles me? Or rather, why do you think that?"

"You forget that I have had to sort out any previous problems you have had," replied Thranduil. "Airëlus and Legolas' also. I know what to look out for. Come, speak to me."

"Well, I...I was thinking about something earlier," said Calaen slowly. "And I just wanted to ask you about it."

"Go on."

The Prince paused for a moment, before continuing. "Is it...is it possible for a parent to not love their child?"

"It depends what kind of parent you speak of. For example, humans are different to us. Not all of them, but some treat their families very differently than we do," replied Thranduil. "Elves, however, can be given no gift more precious than a child."

"So, is it not possible for a parent to once love their son...or daughter, but then feel less love as years go by?" pressed Calaen.

"No, not at all. When a child enters the world, the feeling for both parents is unique," said Thranduil slowly, smiling vaguely as three different memories came flooding back. "I cannot describe it, but no doubt you will know one day what I speak of."

"No, I do not wish for children," muttered Calaen.

"You say that now," laughed Thranduil. "Anyway, the feeling that a parent has for their new-born one is unique, as I have told you, but that feeling does not diminish as the years go by. Instead, it only grows."

Calaen was silent for a moment, before he nodded slowly. "I see."

"Was that all you wished to ask me, or was there anything else?"

"Yes, there was one more thing," said Calaen quietly. He paused and bit down on his lip before voicing his question. "Ada, do you ever wish that...that I was not your son?"

Thranduil did a double take, and stared at the young Elf in disbelief. Startled blue eyes locked onto worried green ones, and the Elven-king was silent as old memories were awakened; memories that were best left alone; memories he had hoped never to think on again.

"Ada?"

"Forgive me, you caught me by surprise," said Thranduil, shaking himself. He moved around to the front of the desk and put both hands on Calaen's shoulders. "Why did you ask me such a thing?"

"I just need to know," replied the Prince, half desperately, half defensively.

"Never in all my life have I heard something as ridiculous as that," said Thranduil in amazement. "Calaen, you should not even need to think that, let alone ask it. Of course I have never wished anything like that, nor will I ever. I am so lucky to have a child like you."

"Really?" asked Calaen quietly.

"Of course," said Thranduil firmly, reaching out and pulling the Prince into an embrace.

Calaen rested his head against his father's chest, and let out a deep sigh of relief he had not known he held. The Elven-king, however, ran his fingers through his son's ebony hair, and closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the memories.

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Lady Leeanne: My first reviewer! Hello! I'm as lazy as Legolas, so he's not alone!

Irish Anor: Hee hee, I laughed when I wrote it!

Warriormaid 3000: Yeah, the change is gonna come a bit later, and it will be very angsty for him. Poor Calaen.

Legolas-gurl88: I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you that it was up! You see? That's a perfect example of me forgetting to tell my friends stuff that they should know!

kathysidle: Yeah, I was like Legolas: not doing too great where studying is concerned!

Kelsey: Yeah, it will definitely have that part with Calaen! And don't worry, young Airëlus is popping up next chapter!

Poor little Calaen. Well, he's not that little. But he's my little Calaen, cos I absolutely love him to bits. Yeah, I'm crazy, and for anyone who's read my other two stories with him in, you're probably asking me why. I just like him. Anyway, I have nothing else to say. Oh, yes I do. Now, do you remember Berian from 'A Brother's Jealousy'? He popped up in the second to last chapter, and did something horrible to Legolas. Yes, he is the same Elf as the nasty one in this chapter. He won't come in again for a while yet, but I thought I should just let you know that I haven't created a new character with the same name as a different one! Bye!


	3. Chapter 3

Queen Findilan sat on the edge of her large bed, and absent-mindedly smoothed out some creases in the lavender gown that she wore. Golden hair hung down her back, and it swung from side to side when she shook her head or nodded at various intervals during her husband's tirade.

"You over-react, meleth," she said gently.

King Thranduil spun around and stared at her as though she were mad. "Over-react? Have you heard nothing of what I have been telling you? Calaen came to me and asked if I ever wish that he is not my son. How am I supposed to react?"

"Well, ranting and raving will get you no-where," replied Findilan. "You need to calm yourself."

"I _am _calm."

"You also need to sit down," the Queen continued.

"I am fine standing up."

"You make the place look untidy," said Findilan.

Thranduil stared at her for a moment, before sinking down onto the bed. He took both her hands in his, and gazed deeply into her eyes. "I would not be telling you this if I was not worried. You know that, meleth. I fear that Calaen may be beginning to suspect something."

"It could just be childish worries," said Findilan gently. "He is no longer an Elfling, but do not forget that he _is _still a child, and may feel insecure about something. Maybe something is troubling him."

"Maybe you are right," Thranduil sighed. "But he should not have to feel insecure. Look, I have been thinking everything through, and now I begin to believe that it is not fair to keep him in the dark any longer. He is of an age now where he should be told."

Findilan's pale eyes softened, and she shook her head. "Do you truly think so? Maybe it would be best to leave it alone. Just for a while longer."

"But what if he finds out some other way?" asked Thranduil. "Nearly the whole damned Realm knows about it already. I am quite sure that those around Calaen's age have been told by elder siblings, and probably all around Airëlus' age know also. I would have him find out from us, his parents, rather than anyone else."

"If you truly feel strongly about this, I will not object," said Findilan slowly. "But, think of what it would do to our family. Can you imagine how Airëlus would feel? Shut out, because we did not tell him sooner. Legolas is far too young to understand this. And Calaen...Valar only knows how he would react. Think about this, meleth."

Thranduil sighed, but nodded almost resentfully. "Maybe you are right. Maybe it is best if silence is kept. At least, for a while."

"Yes, I think so," replied Findilan.

"Thank you," said Thranduil quietly.

The Queen arched a delicate eyebrow, and smiled. "What for?"

"Just...thank you for everything. If I did not have you, I would be lost. I would not be able to find the strength to go on," replied Thranduil, trailing his fingers up and down his wife's cheek.

"You _are _strong," breathed Findilan.

"No, I am nothing without you. I sometimes wonder what my life would be if we had never met," Thranduil sighed.

"Do not dwell on what might have been. Think only on what is, and what you have now," said Findilan gently. She paused, and her eyes sparkled. "Unless, of course, you wish we had never met."

Instead of answering, the Elven-king kissed his wife lightly on the lips, before pulling back to gaze into her eyes. She smiled, and leaned forwards to rest her head on Thranduil's chest. She could hear the beating of his heart, and she laughed quietly, melodically.

"That was nearly as stupid as what Calaen said to me," Thranduil mused.

"We have spoken of that already," the Queen replied. "Do not think of it any more."

Thranduil nodded slowly, and kissed Findilan on the cheek before moving away from the bed. "Yes, you are right. Come, it is time for the evening meal. It would not be setting a good example if were late to dinner."

"No, not at all," Findilan agreed. "You go down now, and I will join you in a moment. I just need to change into something else."

"Ah, you look beautiful as you are," said Thranduil.

"Flattery will get you no-where, meleth," Findilan replied.

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"So, you actually hid the work that Ameldir had prepared for your lesson?" asked Airëlus, feigning disapproval.

Legolas raised his head from where it rested against his mother's shoulder, and glanced across at his father. The King's expression was un-readable. Looking back at his fair-haired brother, the Prince nodded. "Ye-es, but I did give it back to him afterwards."

"You would not have done so if I had not told you to," said Thranduil.

"Yes, I would," Legolas insisted.

"So, can you honestly say that if Ameldir had not found out what you had done, you would have admitted to the crime?" asked Thranduil. The Elfling merely lowered his eyes. "Ah, I thought so."

"Ada, you speak as though he really has committed an unforgivable crime," laughed Calaen, from his place on the floor at Airëlus' feet.

The Elven-king nodded gravely, and went to stand at the window. Darkness had fallen a long time back, and they were all in the family room now, a warm fire burning in the grate. Legolas kept on nearly falling asleep, for it had, after all, been a day of hard work for him. Thranduil smiled vaguely.

"Ada?"

"Oh, I was just thinking on what you said, Calaen," replied the King. "In some places, they _would _consider something like that a crime. They would not deal with it lightly, either."

"That is only humans," said Calaen, as he saw his young brother's eyes widen.

Thranduil turned around, and shook his head slowly. "Only humans, you think? No, I have heard of other Elflings who hid their tutor's work, and within one night, those Elflings had...disappeared."

"Where to?" asked Legolas quietly.

"Who knows? They were never seen again," replied Thranduil, his voice sorrowful. "However, it is said that they are suddenly swooped down upon, and carried away somewhere."

Legolas stared around at his now silent family, and bit down on his lip. "I...I really am sorry. Really."

"So were all of those other little Elflings. Unfortunately, it did them no good," Thranduil sighed. He let the sentence hang for at least a minute, and just when Legolas looked as though he was relaxed, the King darted forwards and swept the child from his wife's arms, and into his own.

"Ada, I'm sorry! No, please stop! Put me down, I won't do it again!" screamed Legolas, as he was swung around in the air. "Ada, I'm sorry!"

Thranduil laughed, and drew his Elfling close. "I know you are."

"That was a cruel trick to play," said Findilan. "Look, you have terrified the poor child."

"No, he hasn't," said Legolas breathlessly, though the expression on his face betrayed his words.

"It may have been cruel, but it was also very funny," Airëlus smirked.

Thranduil smiled and inclined his head. "Quite so. Greenleaf, you are tired. Say goodnight to your mother and brothers, then I will take you to bed."

Legolas nodded, and his eyes fluttered shut briefly when Findilan rose and kissed him on the cheek. Airëlus also rose to say goodnight to his youngest brother, but Calaen remained down on the ground. He knew that the Elfling would creep out of bed later, and come to see him.

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"There was no truth to the story, ion-nin," said Thranduil reassuringly, as he un-braided a worried Legolas' hair.

"But you don't know that. What if you wake up tomorrow morning and I have disappeared like those other Elflings?" asked the Prince, nervously playing with the sleeve of his tunic.

Thranduil smiled, and ran a hand gently over his son's head, smoothing out the now loose hair. "If that should happen, I will search all of Arda until I find you. Should that fail, I will go beyond the shores of Middle-Earth, and I will not rest until you are back with me."

Legolas smiled sadly, and turned to face his father. "So, you are saying that I _might _get taken away."

'Should have seen that coming,' thought Thranduil, as he pulled back the covers of the bed to let his son crawl under them. "No, I do not mean that. Do you trust me, Greenleaf?"

"Yes."

"Good. Well, you must trust me when I say that no-one will ever, _ever _take you away from me. No matter what happens, no matter where you go in life, you will never be taken from me," said Thranduil softly.

"Nana?" asked Legolas.

The Elven-king smiled. "No, nor Nana. Nor Calaen. Nor Airëlus."

The Elfling thought about this for a moment, before nodding his head in satisfaction. "Alright, that is good. Ada?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, ion-nin," replied Thranduil, leaning down and kissing Legolas on the forehead, before putting out the lamp that burned, and quietly leaving the room.

The young Elven-prince lay in silence for a moment, though it was a matter of seconds before he swung himself out of bed and trotted across to the door, his woollen blanket clutched in one hand. Standing up on tiptoes, he wondered vaguely how long it would be before he was able to open the door easily, and without any work having to be done.

After what seemed an age of stretching and pulling – though was actually no more than a minute or so – a sliver of light shone into the room, and Legolas slipped out of the partially open door, into the corridor. It was a very long one, but his destination was fairly close by.

No sooner had he begun creeping forwards though, he saw a slender shadow looming over him. He gasped in horror as he realised that Thranduil's story _had _been true. Holding his blanket tightly, Legolas made to run from the danger, but he suddenly found himself caught by the back of his night-tunic, and lifted into the air.

"Good evening, young one," his captor said in a low voice. "Are you not supposed to be in bed?"

"Who are you?" asked Legolas nervously.

The stranger laughed quietly. "What are you doing roaming the corridors at night, Elfling? Surely that is not safe?"

"I live here, and my Ada said that my home is...is a-always safe," whispered Legolas, dropping his blanket in the struggle to get free. He made a soft noise of despair, and stared down at the floor.

His captor, however, seemed to take pity on the frightened child, for he pulled him close to his body and leaned down to rescue the fallen blanket. Legolas blinked as golden hair fell into his eyes. From this new position, though, he was able to look up and see who the stranger was. His own ocean eyes met a pair of ice blue ones, and he swallowed nervously. Oh. Maybe meeting the stealer-of-Elflings was better than this.

"What, ion-nin, are you doing?" asked Thranduil coolly. "Correct me if I am wrong, but, are you not supposed to say in your bed, once in it?"

"Yes," said Legolas miserably.

Thranduil laughed, and pushed the blanket back into the small Elfling's hands. "I waited for you in the dark. I knew you would try and visit your brother's room."

"Oh. So, maybe it would've been better to wait a few minutes before leaving," Legolas sighed.

"Maybe. If I take you to Calaen, you must go back to your own bed afterwards, and not get out again," said Thranduil.

Legolas nodded, feeling more relaxed now that he was sure he was not going to be spirited away anywhere. "Ada, I thought you had come to take me away, like all of the other Elflings who disappeared. You frightened me."

"If you had stayed in bed, you would not have been afraid," said Thranduil, pausing as they reached Calaen's door. "Besides, did you not hear what I told you about that story being untrue? Valar, my words just go in one ear and out the other. I may as well stay silent."

"Alright, but if you are not going to talk, will you please put me down and open the door for me?" asked Legolas seriously. "It is still hard for me to reach the handle."

Without saying a single word, Thranduil deposited his bundle onto the floor, and pulled down on the afore-mentioned handle. The door opened at the same time as he melted back into the shadows, and Legolas smiled, before going into his brother's room.

Calaen was writing in a leather-bound book, though he snapped it shut as soon as he saw the Elfling. "Oh Greenleaf, did you open the door on your own?"

"It is not that hard to do," replied Legolas, climbing up onto the bed. "Anyway, it isn't because I can't open the doors, it is because I can't reach the handles."

"Sorry," said Calaen. "My mistake."

Legolas nodded as he sat beside his brother, and absent-mindedly fiddled with the sleeve of his tunic. "We are going into the forest tomorrow, because I did all of that work. Cal, can I ride with you?"

"Why me?" asked the elder Prince.

"Oh, I can always ride with someone else," said Legolas hurriedly.

Calaen laughed, and hugged the Elfling close to his chest. "No, I did not mean that. I meant, why should you wish to ride with me when you could ride with Ada or Naneth or Airëlus?"

Legolas was silent for a moment, thinking. "Well, Ada would be no fun. He isn't talking at the moment. I always ride with Nana. And Airëlus will only want to talk about books. But, you have interesting things to talk about."

Calaen smiled, and pulled the covers of the bed up over both himself and the Elfling. "Then, of course you can ride with me. Books are not as boring as you think, nor is Airëlus. And Ada...why is he not talking?"

"I don't know. He is strange," said Legolas quietly, almost inaudibly, as he rested his head against Calaen's chest.

"You are tired," said the dark haired Elf.

"Hmm. I will...go back to my bed," muttered Legolas.

Calaen shook his head, and held the younger Prince closer. "No, stay here. Sleep in here tonight, Greenleaf. You will only sleep late tomorrow morning, and you may miss our departure."

If he expected a reply from the Elfling, he did not get one. Legolas' eyes had slid out of focus, and his infant face was partially hidden by golden tresses. Calaen smiled as he gazed down at his brother, and within a few minutes, had let himself be taken by sleep.

Unknown to the two Princes, the door opened a while after, and their father came in. He took one look at them, shook his head, and thought: 'Ai, children."

............................................................................................................

Legolas-gurl88: Yeah, I felt sorry for him even when I wrote it. Nope, they haven't gone through the woods yet, but you've probably guessed that from this chapter. Yes, he's innocent at the moment. I wonder how long that will last!

kathysidle: Yeah, that's the one! What a nasty Elf! Don't worry, Airëlus is...in this chapter! There wasn't very much of him, but he is in it some more later on.

October Skye: I was also kind of sceptical about writing this, but it's going good, so I'm glad that I started it!

Lady Leeanne: You saw Orlando Bloom?! Where? How? Oh my God, you are so lucky! Did you actually meet him? Wow, I would die to meet him!!! (I am so not obsessed!) Sorry. To answer your question, Calaen is about 12 years old. Mortally speaking. Obviously.

Kelsey: I don't want to entirely change people's opinions of Calaen, but I still want them to know that he has his reasons, and there's more to him than what you see in the other two. Airëlus doesn't know about Berian yet, but this definitely isn't the end of the nasty Elf! He doesn't pop up for a while yet, but he'll definitely be coming back!

Rutu: Yeah. Maybe everything would have worked out ok if they had gone out into the forest on the day they were supposed to. I guess we'll never know...

Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'll be back with more on Friday!


	4. Chapter 4

Whilst the inhabitants of Mirkwood were waking on the morning that the Royal Family were going to go on their trip, so were those far away in Rivendell. Elrohir, one of the two raven haired sons of Lord Elrond sat up in bed, and blinked as the sun shone through a chink in the curtains. He normally would have turned his head the other way before letting his eyes refocus entirely, but this morning, had forgotten.

"Stupid sun," he muttered, jumping out of bed to pull the curtain across. He shook his head once more, before turning back to the double bed he shared with his brother. Their father had mentioned something about getting them separate rooms, but both twins had refused.

"Stupid idea," Elrohir said quietly, climbing back into his side of the bed – the right one – and pulling the covers up over his shoulders. He lay motionless for a while, staring at the ceiling, before reaching across to his bedside table for the cup of water which stood there. It was empty.

"Stupid water," Elrohir sighed, getting once more out of bed and going to his brother's side. "Ah, you call me lazy, but I am not the one still asleep at this hour. Stupid Elladan."

As the young Elf picked up the water, he let his gaze rest on his twin. Elladan's face was covered by his hair, but his breathing was fast and uneven. Biting down on his lip, Elrohir reached down and touched a hand to his brother's shoulder.

"'Dan, are you alright?" he whispered. "Wake up, 'Dan."

As he was being shaken, Elladan's hair fell back from his face, uncovering a shocking revelation: his eyes were shut. Elrohir swore violently – his father would faint if he heard that – and in his panic, tipped the water all over his brother's head. Elladan sat up with a start and looked around wildly.

"What the blazes is wrong with you?" breathed Elrohir, his face pale.

"What do you mean 'what the blazes is wrong with me'? What the blazes is wrong with you?!" Elladan spluttered, blinking water from his eyes.

Elrohir stared at him in wonder, and slowly put the now empty cup back on the table. "You were asleep, 'Dan, and-

"I know I was asleep," Elladan grumbled, "at least, I was until you woke me."

"Your eyes were shut," said Elrohir quietly.

"Shut?"

"Yes. You were breathing heavily and that worried me enough, so I shook you, and in doing so, your hair fell back from your face and I could see that your eyes were shut," Elrohir nodded. "It frightened me. I thought you were...I don't know what I thought. Maybe you were having a dream...or something."

Elladan was silent for a moment, though he reached out to touch a hand to his twin's shoulder. "That is strange. We can ask Ada about it, if you wish. 'Ro, I am sorry I frightened you."

"Ah, you were asleep. You couldn't help it," Elrohir shrugged. "Anyway, you are alright, and that is all that matters. I am sorry for throwing water over you. You are drenched now. Maybe you should get changed."

"I will." Elladan swung his legs out of the bed and stared at the clothes on the floor. "Which are mine and which are yours?"

Elrohir reached down and picked up two random but identical tunics. He smelt both of them, then threw one across to his brother. "This one smells of leaves and trees and nature. It has to be mine."

"What does this smell of, then?" asked Elladan.

"Orcs," smirked Elrohir, ducking as a leather boot came flying his way.

............................................................................................................

Later that day, the two brothers sat under the shade of a tree, away from the cruel glare of the sun. Elrohir chewed on an apple, but Elladan merely rolled his around in his fingers, staring out across the garden. The sudden waving of a hand in front of his eyes, however, startled him from his reverie.

"Hello, are you awake?" Elrohir asked. "I was talking to you."

"Sorry," Elladan sighed, shaking his head. "What did you say?"

Elrohir's forehead creased in concern, and he put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It does not matter. Are you sure you are quite alright? You have been distant for a long while now."

Elladan flicked his eyes down to the ground, and slowly shook his head. "No. Things are starting to come back into my mind; things I did not remember this morning. I...I _was _dreaming of something when you woke me, and it was...not a very nice dream. Looking back, it seems more like a nightmare."

"Tell me," said Elrohir softly.

"There was a family of Elves and they were in a forest," Elladan replied, his voice distant. "There were many trees, but one in particular caught my attention. There was something about it. Something sinister, despite its beauty."

"Strange," murmured Elrohir.

Elladan shook his head. "That is not all of it. Someone climbed the tree, and although there was laughter, everything was spinning, and nothing was clear to me. Then suddenly the laughter stopped and it turned to screams. The Elf who climbed the tree came back down to the ground, though...not the way they went up."

"They fell," breathed Elrohir. "Who was it?"

"I do not know. There was a woman there, and possibly a child. I think that's who was laughing," Elladan sighed. He was quiet for a moment. "Do you remember Airëlus and Calaen, King Thranduil's sons?"

Elrohir nodded. "Vaguely, but it has been a long while since we last saw them. In fact, we were mere Elflings, were we not?"

"They were in the dream, I think, but I do not see why they were," said Elladan slowly. "You can call me crazy if you wish, but...I have a bad feeling about this, 'Ro."

"Then, we should go and see Ada," said Elrohir. He caught the doubt in his twin's eyes, and smiled gently. "We will not tell him the whole story if you do not wish to. Come, he will be able to ease your worries."

............................................................................................................

Lord Elrond looked up as his study door opened, and he smiled benevolently. "Ah, there you are. I have not seen you two since breakfast. Come, sit down."

"Ada, we...we wanted to ask you something," said Elladan carefully. "Can you tell us a little of King Thranduil's family?"

"Certainly," replied Elrond. "Why?"

"Just curious," Elrohir shrugged.

The Elven-lord nodded, and leant back in his chair. "Well, he is married to Queen Findilan, and their eldest son is Airëlus. He is the Crown Prince, and is a few years older than you two. Then there is Calaen. There is not much age difference between the three of you."

"Is there another child?" pressed Elrohir. "A younger one?"

"Ah, yes. That would be Legolas," replied Elrond. "Can you not remember the feast that was held for his birth? We travelled to Mirkwood for it."

"Yes, but he did not look like anything then," said Elladan, "for he was only a few days old. What does he look like now?"

Elrond was quiet for a moment, casting his memory back to the last time he had seen the child. "Legolas has inherited Thranduil's hair and eyes, and although there is some of his father's personality in him, he takes largely after his mother, temperamentally speaking. He is quite a small child, if I recall correctly, smaller than you and his brothers were at that age. Still, what he lacks in size, he makes up for with mischievousness."

"This sounds like an Elfling whose company we would enjoy," Elrohir grinned.

"Hmm. But why the sudden interest?" asked Elrond.

"We...were just having an argument over what colour his eyes are, but you have sorted it out for us. They're blue," replied Elladan. "That was all we wanted, thank you."

Lord Elrond watched as the two young Elves jumped up and went over to the door. "So, who lost the argument?"

"Elrohir," said Elladan.

"Elladan," said Elrohir, at the same time.

............................................................................................................

"It was them," Elladan said quietly, as he and his twin went down the corridor. "I saw Airëlus, Calaen and Legolas, and I would be willing to stake my life on that statement."

"Maybe you did, but it was only a dream," said Elrohir gently. "Yes, I understand that it was probably very disturbing, but do not dwell on it, for you are only worrying yourself."

"Yes, probably un-necessarily," Elladan sighed. He paused, and put a hand on his twin's shoulder. "But, what if dreams come true?"

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Jedi Gollum: Mean Misto only stays away for a little while! I get mean-ness withdrawal symptoms!

October Skye: Berian is just like one of those high school bullies, you know? Picking on the younger kids and stuff like that, just because he can. He's not terribly bad, as in, he would never hurt Calaen, but he just likes teasing him. Nasty git!

Irish Anor: You're back at school already? Where are you from? I don't start college til 8th September, and I left school on 23rd June. Luckily, I have some time left!

kathysidle: Yeah, I bet its weird reading a nice Calaen! Its definitely weird writing him!

Legolas-gurl88: Yeah, I like Findilan also. Too bad the chapter with the forest is coming up soon!

eleanor rigbey: I only started posting this on Saturday. Portugal was fun, cos I went with my friend, and there was a lot of alcohol! Gran Canaria is a Spanish island, and one of the nicest places I've ever been!

Right, I know that you're all waiting for the 'forest' chapter to come up, but it's the next one, definitely. Yay, Elladan and Elrohir are in it! They're not gonna be a huge part of the story, but they'll be around for a little while. Until Sunday!


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning saw the Royal Family riding from the palace gates and under the eaves of the forest. They were not going to go where darkness had struck the once peaceful Realm, but nor were they going to let every bit of beauty be taken from them.

As promised, Legolas rode in front of Calaen, and the elder Elf kept a protective arm firmly around the younger's waist. Not that there was any real need: the small Prince was an accomplished rider for his age, but still, Calaen only wanted to make sure that if anything should happen, his brother would be safe.

"Ada is frightening me again, Cal," whispered Legolas. "He still hasn't spoken to me, and he keeps giving me funny looks."

"Because you are a funny Elf," replied Calaen.

"Ling."

"Excuse me?"

Airëlus laughed quietly, and reigned in his horse to fall in step beside his brother's. "You said 'Elf', so I added 'ling' onto the end of it. Legolas is an Elfling."

"Aren't you a fountain of knowledge?" muttered Calaen, rolling his eyes.

"I was merely making an observation."

"I am glad you did, else I would not have noticed."

"Of course not, for your head is so far up your horse's-

Calaen promptly pulled his hands from the reins and clamped them instead over Legolas' ears as he hissed, "Airëlus, I will not be held responsible for anything that the Elfling learns. Can you not remember the last time he picked up a word not suitable for one his age? He went around for months, saying it over and over again."

"It provided good entertainment," Airëlus shrugged. "I found it funny. So did you, at the time."

"Lord Elrond did not find it funny," Thranduil called out, from where he was riding a little way ahead with his wife, "nor did Lady Celebrian. If my memory is correct, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were far from amused, and Mithrandir said that I should be quite ashamed of myself, teaching a baby such words."

"Please, try and curb your tongues around Legolas," said Findilan.

Airëlus and Calaen muttered quiet words of apology, whilst the Elfling in question just shook his head. Ada and Nana told him it was always good to learn new words, but the last time he had done so, he had gotten into trouble for it. The world was confusing to a child's eyes.

The family now rode through the trees and into a large clearing. They had always come to this spot, for its beauty was radiant, and the sun filtered down through the branches of all the trees, and dust particles fell lazily through the air. The evil of Dol Guldor had not yet reached it.

However...there was something else in that clearing. Something so innocent, but which had the power to tear a family apart...

............................................................................................................

Legolas sat on the leafy forest floor, staring down at the ground. He was bored. Calaen and Airëlus had gone to hunt for rabbits in a clearing just a little way on, but of course, he was both too small and too young to accompany them. As usual.

He despised it when he got left behind. That he should be on his own with nothing to do just because of his age and size was far from fair. Sighing, the Elfling reached out and pulled an arrow from his father's quiver, which lay neglected on the ground.

Thranduil, however, had not forgotten that he had left it next to his young son. Without changing the tone in which he spoke to Findilan, who lay nestled up against him, the Elven-king stared at Legolas, willing him to look up. Eventually, he did so, and he immediately winced and dropped the arrow as he met cool blue eyes.

"Your brothers will be back soon, Greenleaf," said Findilan, raising her head to look across at the boy. "Then it will be time to head back to the palace."

Legolas nodded sadly, and turned so that he was facing away from his parents. The arrow went with his foot though, and he smiled as he leaned forwards to pick it up once more. Again, however, he felt someone watching him, so he looked over his shoulder and into his father's eyes once more.

Thranduil shook his head once, ever so briefly, though he felt a twinge of regret as Legolas dropped the arrow once more, and sighed dejectedly. Yes, maybe he had become tired, but real warrior's arrows were out of bounds for the time being, because of his age

'It is always about how old I am,' thought Legolas, rolling onto his stomach, and partially covering the arrow with his body. He ran his fingers up and down the feathers, laughing quietly as they tickled him.

"Leave, Legolas."

Narrowing his eyes, the Elfling picked up the arrow, meaning to throw it in frustration. It would get him nowhere, but still. He had grabbed it too quickly, though, and the sharp point dug into one of his tender fingers. It fell to the ground, and he stared in horror as a red bubble appeared.

His parents were over in an instant, and Findilan gathered him to her, whilst Thranduil examined the small wound. He silently cursed himself over and over again in every language he could think of, venturing for a moment even into Dwarven tongue. He should have known better that it would take more than the usual sharp look or word to calm their youngest when he was bored.

"It hurts," whispered Legolas.

"Well, arrows are not designed to do anything else," Thranduil replied. "You will live, ion-nin. You only broke the skin. Look, there is very little blood."

"What does this tell you?" asked Findilan.

"That...that I'm not going to die," replied Legolas.

The Queen laughed, but shook her head. "No. I mean, what lesson have you learnt?"

"Oh. Not to play with Ada's arrows," said Legolas, staring down at his finger. "And...and I know to listen to Ada when he tells me not to do something. But, he actually only told me once. The first time he only looked at me, and the second time he shook his head."

"Ah, I am to blame, then," said Thranduil.

Legolas shook his head, and moved from his mother's arms and across to his father's. "No Ada, we can blame the arrow. It is his fault."

"His?"

Findilan just shrugged her shoulders, and went back to sit against the large tree. Thranduil also went over and sat beside his wife, with little Legolas' arms around his neck. The Elfling wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position. He ended up lying in his father's arms on his back, staring up at the leafy canopy above.

"When will Calaen and Airëlus be back?" asked Legolas.

"Soon, Greenleaf, very soon," replied Findilan.

"Why don't you tell us what you learned from Ameldir in your lesson yesterday?" Thranduil suggested.

Legolas nodded, and began absent-mindedly tugging on his father's hair, as he was apt to do. "Well, I was taught about trees. He told me how to recognize different plants, and he told me where to find them. But I knew most of it already."

"Tell us about the different types of trees and plants, then," said Findilan.

"Well, cedars are very big and you can see them in warm places," said Legolas slowly. "Beeches are also very tall, and they grow all over Middle-Earth. Ameldir told me that Lúthien was imprisoned in one."

"That is true," Thranduil nodded.

"Anyway, I learned that ashes are tall and grey, and they are used to make spears. Well, their wood is. Not the actual tree, because then you would have a very big spear, and it wouldn't be very useful," Legolas continued, smiling slightly at the image.

"What did you learn about plants?" asked Findilan, glancing sideways at her husband with twinkling eyes.

"Some plants can be used to make people better. Like Athelas. Ameldir said that it can also be called Kingsfoil, and the leaves are very..." Legolas trailed off, and his eyes grew wide. "Look up there!"

"Where?"

"There!"

The King and Queen looked up to where their son was pointing, and they smiled upon realising what had captured his attention. In the midst of all the green leaves on the large tree, there was a single red one, vibrant, unique.

"That is rare," murmured Findilan.

"Can I have it?" asked Legolas, already climbing up onto his father's shoulders, and making to jump and grab one of the branches.

"Stay," said Thranduil, reaching up and pulling the Elfling back down.

Legolas looked irritated for a moment, but then smiled winningly. "Yes, I will stay. I won't climb the tree. But Ada, will you get it for me? Can you see? It is the only red one. All the other ones are green."

"Yes, I see that," replied Thranduil. He paused for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, leave it. It is not our place to disturb nature."

"But-

"Ada, Naneth, see what we caught!"

The three in the clearing looked up to see Calaen and Airëlus running through the trees, both of them clutching two rabbits, and wearing triumphant smiles on their flushed faces. Legolas watched for a moment as his brothers explained how they had caught their prey, but then he turned back to his parents.

"They disturbed nature," he said petulantly.

"Ah, but there is a difference. Those rabbits can be cooked by the kitchen staff, and made into a lovely meal for us to eat later," said Findilan gently.

"Your leaf, however, cannot," said Thranduil dryly.

"What is this?" asked Calaen, as they began getting ready to leave.

The Elven-king shook his head slightly. "Your brother wishes for that leaf up there. Can you see the red one? Well, I said no. He is getting upset now."

"I'm not," muttered Legolas, though he blinked away tears, and fixed his gaze determinedly on the floor.

"Do not patronize him, Thranduil," said Findilan quietly. "He is merely tired, I think. Come, let us find the horses, and then we can return to the palace."

"Calaen and I can always get it for him," Airëlus offered.

"No! It is a damned leaf, nothing more and nothing less," snapped Thranduil. "Legolas, take one from the floor if you are so desperate for one. Look, there are plenty of them around."

The young Prince just shook his head mutely, and pulled his small cloak over his shoulders. Yes, he _was _upset, but not because of the leaf. His Ada was angry with him again. Actually, Thranduil was _not_, but of course, Legolas did not know that.

"Do not look so angry, Greenleaf," said Calaen softly, as they walked through the trees.

"I'm not," Legolas sighed.

Thranduil laughed derisively when he heard that. "You think so? The expression on your face could stop even an Orc in its path."

That was too much for Legolas. He pushed past Calaen and Airëlus, and darted through the trees on the left side of the past. Swearing violently, Thranduil reached out to grab him, but the Elfling was too fast. Findilan stepped in front of her husband, an unusual angry glint in her eyes.

"That was your fault. Do not go after him, you will only upset him even more," she hissed. "Valar, can you not learn to keep your comments to yourself? Your temper and sarcasm will be the death of someone one of these days."

With that, the Queen turned and followed the path that Legolas had taken, leaving two stunned Princes and a fuming King behind. Thranduil watched her go through narrowed eyes for a moment, before spinning on his heel and walking the other way. Calaen and Airëlus glanced at each other uneasily, before following their father.

............................................................................................................

Ten minutes later, and Findilan was sitting under the same tree she had been a while back, with Legolas drawn close to her body. Upon entering the clearing, she had found him just about to climb up the tree on his own, and had pulled him down just in time.

"Why does Ada always get angry now?" asked the Elfling quietly. "He used to be happy, but now he shouts all the time."

Findilan sighed, and brushed some tears from her child's cheeks. "Yes, he is sometimes angry, and yes, he sometimes shouts. But he _always _loves you, Greenleaf. He is the King and has many important things to do. I fear that sometimes they prove to be too much for him. Ada has many things on his mind."

"Like what?"

"Oh, things that are much too complicated for children," replied Findilan. "Even your brothers do not know of them. Now, Ada did not help matters by making that comment a moment ago, but you should not have run off."

"I'm sorry," Legolas sighed.

Findilan smiled, and hugged her Elfling close. "I know. Now, I want to see no more tears from your eyes. If I do, I may have to re-consider climbing up that tree to get you that leaf."

"Really?" asked Legolas in amazement. "But, Ada said..."

"I know what Ada said, but Ada is not here," Findilan whispered conspiratorially. "What he does not know will not hurt him. However, you must stay down here, and under no circumstances do you follow me up."

Legolas nodded in earnest as he was set on the ground, and he stood back to watch as his mother began the climb up to the top of the tree...

............................................................................................................

"Leave the horses where they are," snapped Thranduil. "Your mother and Legolas have been gone for far too long. I should not have left them alone."

Calaen and Airëlus cast each other nervous glances, before following their father through the foliage. To say that they were worried for Findilan and Legolas would be an understatement. Neither of them actually expected anything bad to happen, but still...it was stupid to assume that everything was alright.

"Who does the insolent little brat think that he is?" Thranduil hissed, hitting a branch out of the way. The tree recoiled indignantly, though relaxed somewhat when the Princes muttered apologies. "What makes him think he has the right to behave like that?"

"Forgive me, Ada, but he was upset by what you said," Calaen offered somewhat nervously.

"I know he was upset by what I said, and I accept full responsibility for making him feel like that, but it still does not excuse his behaviour," Thranduil ground out. "By the Valar, when I'm finished with him..."

Airëlus narrowed his eyes as the furious Elven-king got more and more frustrated, and reeled of various threats and punishments. Calaen merely rolled his eyes in irritation and shut out all that was being said. When his father and brother began calling out for the Queen and Elfling, though, the dark haired Elf's heart thudded painfully against his chest.

"Legolas!" yelled Thranduil, and now the anger was absent from his voice, replaced by panic.

"Ada, listen," hissed Airëlus. Not too far away, was the sound of a female crying out. She was afraid. What came next, no-one expected. It chilled their blood. Their hearts skipped beats.

A scream. Then another. A snapping sound, like branches breaking. Then nothing. Nothing except the cries of startled birds, and the exclamations of the surrounding trees. A child's sobbing, begging, pleading. Then quiet.

"Valar," breathed Airëlus.

Calaen just stared straight ahead, and although he could hear and feel his father and elder brother pushing past him and rushing through the trees, he felt as though he was rooted to the spot with fear. Biting down hard on his lip, he forced himself to go into the next clearing.

What he saw when he got there, made his blood run cold...

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Legolas-gurl88: Don't worry, your sign did show up on the screen when I checked my reviews. Maybe its just something to do with if you submit a chapter, and you're not allowed it in there. I don't know. This site can go funny sometimes!

Rutu: I'll mention something about the alternate ending in my author's note at the end, just in case anyone else wants to know!

Lady Leeanne: I hope your play went alright! Wow, you are so lucky, seeing Orlando!

Deana: Hello, nice to see you back!

Kelsey: There was some Airëlus for you! Again, there wasn't very much of him, but there will be more.

kathysidle: I'm glad you liked the Elladan and Elrohir chapter. And don't worry: your wait is over, and they're in the forest!

Rachel13: Hey, its great to have your hilarious reviews again. I've really missed them! No, your saying is definitely famous. Every single review, its there!

eleanor rigbey: If you go to the Orlando Bloom Files, there's loads of pictures there of him, and they have some of when he was 3, 4, 12, and so on and so forth. He was sweet! Oh yeah, in answer to your Ned Kelly question...It didn't come out in cinemas out here, so it was a bit of a surprise when I walked into a shop and saw it there! The reviews were ok, but nothing special.

I know this was a bit of a long chapter, so I'm sorry about the length. Right, Rutu asked me about the alternate ending for 'Captured by the Past'. I will be doing it, possibly when I've finished this one. I have about three other stories planned, but I'll probably put them on hold so I can do the alternate ending, cos I don't wanna have a break from Calaen and that lot for a few months, and then go back to them. I just want to have the four stories with Calaen and Airëlus all right after the other. Does that make sense? I know what I meant!


	6. Chapter 6

King Thranduil held his wife's lifeless body close, oblivious in his disbelief and grief that Calaen had sunk to the base of a tree and was sobbing into his hands; Airëlus had turned away from the scene, though tears of confusion flowed down his cheeks; and Legolas sat on the forest floor crying quietly, not understanding.

It took what seemed an age for someone to shakily voice the question: what happened?

"I...I don't know," whispered Thranduil. "Valar, her neck...it...it is broken."

"How?" asked Airëlus through gritted teeth. He would not, could not believe that his mother was dead.

"I don't know," said Thranduil quietly, shaking his head. He glanced up then, and seemed to notice his children for the first time. Biting back tears, he gathered Findilan's body in his arms and got unsteadily to his feet.

"What are you doing?" asked Airëlus.

Thranduil waited a moment to see if he would wake up, and find that he was dreaming all of this. No, he didn't. "Darkness is falling. We must get her back to the palace."

"Why? Does she still live?" asked Calaen, jumping to his feet as hope was momentarily restored.

"Does she...? She is... she..." Thranduil breathed out deeply to try and calm himself. "No, she does not live. Come, we must get to the horses."

"Fell."

Thranduil turned, and blinked as he saw Legolas sitting on the forest floor. The Elfling was holding something in one hand, whilst the other was wrapped around his right ankle. Cuts adorned the young Prince's tear-stained face, and the Elven-king winced as he realised that he had momentarily forgotten that his son was even there.

"Nana fell," whispered Legolas. "She fell."

Choking back a sob, Airëlus stepped forwards and swept the Elfling into his arms. Legolas cried out, though, as his sprained ankle was knocked, and he buried his face into his elder brother's shoulder, and let all of his tears fall.

"Thank you, Airëlus," said Thranduil quietly. "Calaen, come. We must leave."

The dark haired Prince just stood in silence for a moment, staring at the spot where his mother had fallen. In that instant, he realised that life would never _ever _be the same again. For any of them.

Later that night, the Mirkwood palace was as silent as the dead. All were in mourning for their Queen, and none more so than the Royal Family. They spoke very little, and when they did, it was merely to break the awkward silence which hung in the air.

"How is your ankle now, Greenleaf?" asked Airëlus absent-mindedly, not really realising that he had spoken until he got a reply back.

"Doesn't hurt," Legolas muttered.

Thranduil sat at his desk, staring down at the floor of his study. He had never experienced this. Or rather, he had never experienced this with children. He did not know how to comfort them, what to say or what to do.

When his father had died at the Last Great Alliance of Men and Elves, Thranduil had been affected, yes, but he had still been very young, only a few years older than Airëlus was now. He had only been the Prince, the King's son back then, and he had so many people to turn to. Now though, there was no-one. He had to be prepared to be the shoulder for his children to cry on. He wasn't.

'I have to be strong for my sons,' he thought. 'Calaen is sitting in the corner, still crying in silence. He thinks I haven't noticed. Airëlus has taken it upon himself to care for Legolas, and has forgotten about his own grief. Legolas doesn't understand, I don't think. Nor do I, really. No-one does."

"Legolas," the King said at last, "will you...will you tell me now what...happened?"

"No," breathed Calaen, and without saying another word, he jumped up and ran from the room.

"It is too soon," said Airëlus, "for all of us."

Legolas slid from his eldest brother's lap, and moved slowly over next to Thranduil's chair. He looked up and tugged gently on his father's robes, and when sad and confused eyes met his, he lifted his arms.

"What is it?" asked Thranduil wearily, shaking his head.

"Pick him up," Airëlus sighed. "He does that when he wants to be-

"I know, I know," the Elven-king cut in. Valar, was he even forgetting his son's special little things that he did? He reached down and swung Legolas up, and the Elfling immediately nestled against his father's chest.

"Ada, if you do not need me, I think I will go now to my own room," said Airëlus, getting to his feet. "I think that maybe sleep would maybe make me feel a little...I don't know."

"I understand," replied Thranduil, smiling gently. "Thank you for your help, Airëlus. If you do not mind, though, would you look in on Calaen, just to make sure that he is alright?"

"Of course," said the Crown Prince. He nodded goodnight to his father and brother, and swiftly left the room.

Thranduil looked down at the golden head resting against his shoulder, and he sighed deeply. "Legolas, do you...do you wish me to take you to your bed?"

"No. I want to stay with you," came the muffled reply.

'Of course you do,' Thranduil thought bitterly. 'Your mother has just...died. Where else would you rather be than with your only other parent?'

"Ada, I didn't mean to run away from you earlier," said Legolas, raising his head slightly. "Nana told me that you have a lot of things on your mind, and now I don't think that I helped you very much."

Thranduil stared down at the child in amazement. "Why do you speak of that at a time like this? Do you not wish to talk of your mother, or how you are feeling? Why do you...?" The King trailed off as horrible realisation hit.

"Ada?"

'He doesn't understand,' thought Thranduil helplessly. 'Valar help me, he has never seen death before, and he does not know that his mother is not coming back.'

Calaen sat on his bed with his knees drawn up tightly to his chest. He stared unseeingly at the opposite wall, for his vision was blurred by tears which stung at his eyes. They did not fall though; he would not let them. He would not accept the fact that...No, he was not even going to think of it.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and it swung open silently. Airëlus came in and went to sit on the bed next to his brother. Pale blue eyes locked onto shimmering green ones, and the elder Elf leant forwards slightly.

"Calaen, talk to me." 

"There is nothing to talk about," the dark haired Prince said quietly. "I was actually just about to go to sleep."

"I know you are hurting," said Airëlus. "I know the pain that you feel, for I feel it as much as you do. Everything is happening so fast that-

"It all seems unreal," Calaen finished for his brother.

Airëlus nodded slowly, trying to force away the painful lump in his throat. "Yes, unreal is the right word. I do not want to believe that this is truly happening, that we are really living this, but in my heart, I know it to be true."

"She...she was alive yesterday," said Calaen in a low voice. "Valar, she was alive today, this morning, even this afternoon. How can she not be here now? It doesn't make sense, Airëlus, it doesn't-

"Hush, hush," breathed the Crown Prince, moving forwards and pulling his younger brother close to him. "I know it hurts, Cal, I know it does."

"When the realisation actually hit that she is dead, I promised myself I would shed no tears, because that makes it all the more real," whispered the dark haired Elf. "How did she go? Why was she taken from us? She never did anything to anybody."

Airëlus sighed deeply and closed his eyes, though that did not prevent silvery tears from escaping. "No, it does not seem fair. She-

"What do you mean it 'does not seem fair'?" hissed Calaen, pulling away from the embrace. "It _isn't _fair, Airëlus. We should not be talking about this, we should not be mourning her, and she should still be here, with us."

Do you think I don't know that?" asked the Crown Prince. "Do you think that you are the only one who is hurting? You're not."

Calaen lowered his eyes, and nodded sadly. "I know. I know, and I am sorry. I don't suppose I am making things any easier for you."

"Do not worry about it," said Airëlus gently. He stood up and touched a hand to his brother's shoulder. "Try and get some sleep now. Maybe you will feel a little better for it."

Calaen nodded, though he doubted very much that sleep would come. "Airëlus, will you...? No, it does not matter."

"Go on."

"I...Well, will you...will you stay in here tonight?" asked the dark haired Elf quietly. "You don't have to, I just want...need someone near, I suppose."

"Of course I will. Did you think I would say no?" Airëlus replied gently. He kicked off his boots and sat on the bed again. "I left Legolas with Ada."

"Do you think he will be alright?"

"Who?"

"Ada."

"Oh." Airëlus rested his hands behind his head, and shrugged. "I don't know. It is hard to say, really. He seems to be at a loss as to what to do. The fact that we don't really know what happened doesn't make things any easier."

"And Legolas?"

Airëlus paused for a moment before replying. "Legolas is...To be honest with you, I don't know about him, either. I would expect him to be more affected by what has happened, but he seems to be relatively calm."

Calaen stared up at the ceiling and nodded slowly. "Oh. Airëlus, we...we will get through this, won't we?"

"Of course," replied the older Elf, reaching across and wrapping an arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "It will be hard, and there will be obstacles to overcome. But yes, we _will _get through this."

Jedi Gollum: No, it doesn't make you strange, because I liked him even though he was a bit mean. But maybe that makes me strange. Oh well, we can both be strange.

Legolas-gurl88: Yeah, poor everyone! You know, for some reason, that phrase seems to crop up quite a few times in my reviews. I wonder why?! Anyway, Legolas would be around five or six years old in human terms. Ah, how sweet!

kathysidle: Hey, another person who included the phrase 'poor everyone' in their review! Everyone says that! Not that I mind. It's kinda cool, really. Hee hee, yeah the darkness is on its way!

Haldir's Heart and Soul: Too much to wish for!

Pippin the hobbit-elf: No, you are right. Berian from this story and Berian from 'A Brother's Jealousy' are definitely the same Elf. It may be confusing right now, but it will all sort itself out. Berian plays quite a big part later on in the story, and it will also be explained how he fell in with Calaen later on. Don't worry, hopefully you won't be confused. Did you have a good time in Florida? I love it there! But did you have any problems with the storms? And the flashback? It will be in at some point. I've already planned it!

Jennifer: I have to agree with you.

Sorry that this is slightly late. I thought that I had to re-write something in this chapter, but it turns out that I actually don't have to, and the change I have to make is in the chapter after next. Anyway, see you on Thursday! Actually, the Thursday chapter won't be up until the evening, I think, because that's the day I get my GCSE results. Ah, scary! Oh, I forgot to say something else. This is a long author's note. No, that wasn't what I wanted to say. I know that Findilan's death was not very detailed. That was partly because I had it as a flashback in 'A Brother's Jealousy'. However, if you can't remember exactly what happened, don't worry. All you have to do is wait for a day or two, cos there will be more explanation of what happened in either the next chapter or the chapter after. I can't remember which. Ok, now I'm done!


	7. Chapter 7

"This is unbelievable," said Elrohir, for the tenth time that morning.

It was the day after news had reached Rivendell of Queen Findilan's tragic death, and neither twin had slept last night. Elladan had sat awake in silence, trying to convince himself that he had not really seen her fall in his dream. Elrohir had occasionally felt himself being taken by sleep, but had forced his eyes to remain re-focused so he could stay with his brother.

"I want to believe that I did not really see it," said Elladan quietly. "But my dream sounds too much like Ada's explanation of what Galadriel saw. Then again, it may just be coincidence."

"Do you truly believe that?" asked Elrohir softly.

Elladan was silent for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, because it is _too _coincidental. Death is a big thing, 'Ro. I just don't understand why I saw it."

"Well, Galadriel _is _our grandmother," Elrohir sighed. "She has the gift of foresight, as does Ada. Maybe you inherited it."

"But if that is so, why did Ada not see anything?" Elladan paused, and looked up at Elrohir. "Let us say that I _have _inherited this...gift. Hypothetically speaking."

"Of course."

"Well, why do you not also have it?" continued Elladan. "We are identical twins. 'Ro, there are some who even now cannot tell us apart. Even Ada sometimes mixes us up. If we are identical, then why...?"

Elrohir reached across and trailed a hand through his brother's dark tresses. "The bottom layer of your hair is slightly shorter than the top, whilst both of my layers are of equal lengths."

"Only because I got bored one day, and there just happened to be a blade close at hand," Elladan sighed. "Besides, that is not something which can be passed down from parents. It's a...environmental factor which has contributed to the way that I look. Anyway, you can't even see it unless you know its there, and you're the only one who does. Look, I am being serious. If I really have inherited this, then why have you not? It does not make sense."

"Alright, let us go and talk once more to Ada. You must explain all about the dream, and tell him exactly what you told me," said Elrohir firmly. "We are leaving for Mirkwood this afternoon, so we have enough time."

"Leaving?"

Elrohir nodded, and his expression was regretful. "Yes, it is a royal death, so we leave to pay our respects and attend the burial service. I can only imagine how hard that will be for King Thranduil and his sons."

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Lord Elrond sat back in his chair, and regarded Elladan gravely. "This is a very, _very_ serious thing which you have just told me. No, do not look at me like that. I do not doubt your words, and I do not doubt what you saw. But...are you sure that you are not just unconsciously exaggerating?"

"What do you mean?" asked Elladan incredulously.

"Alright, you had this dream where...someone fell from a tree," Elrond sighed. "Yes, it is coincidental that the same tragedy has befallen the Royal Family, but when I told you of Queen Findilan's death, it is very possible that you immediately connected her to whoever it was in your dream."

Elladan shook his head, and leaned forwards a little. "I don't think so. Ada, do you not think it strange that on the same day I have my dream, Galadriel sees all that happened, which is the same as I saw, _and _the Queen dies?"

"I do not deny it is strange," Elrond said quietly. He paused, and looked across at his other son, who was standing silently at the side of the room. "What do you think, Elrohir?"

"Me? I am confused as Elladan," replied the Elf. "Well, maybe not as much, but close enough. Ada, is it possible for him to have inherited the gift of foresight from you or Galadriel? We were debating that before we came to see you."

"There is every possibility that you were correct in your assumptions, whichever one of you came up with the idea," replied Elrond.

"Me," said Elladan quietly.

"Surely I would have it also, though?" asked Elrohir.

Elrond shook his head, and glanced out of the window. "Not necessarily. On the outside, you and your brother are identical. On the inside, you are as different as two trees."

"Trees all look the same," muttered Elladan, "unless you're a wood Elf."

"No, that is where you are wrong. They are very different, as different as...as Glorfindel and Erestor," Elrond replied. "But you must look closely to see differences between two similar trees, and that is just what must be done with you two."

"Are we really that different?" asked Elrohir.

Elrond nodded, and smiled vaguely. "You can be a lot more calmer than your brother, if needs be, and you think quite rationally, whereas he sometimes does not. Elladan, you are more hot-headed that Elrohir, and, do not take offence at this, but not as good at controlling your temper."

"So, it is possible that only one of us inherited this?" Elrohir pressed.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I do not know," Elrond replied. He reached across the desk and put a hand on his other son's shoulder. "If you do indeed have this gift, Elladan, do not take it for ranted. It could prove to be very useful one day."

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Jedi Gollum: Sorry about forgetting the dots. Hopefully the dots in this chapter can make up for the lack of dots in the previous one?! Say hi to your Elrond action figure from me! No, Aradan and his mother won't be in this. This story is gonna end where 'A Brother's Jealousy' begins, so basically the day or something before the first chapter.

Pippin the hobbit-elf: I was really nervous about getting my results also, but I did ok! They are kind of scary, and the preparation is hard, you have to do so much studying, it's unbelievable. But you can't get into college without them, so you don't really have a choice about taking them! Airëlus is supposed to be around the age of 14/15 right now, and Calaen is about 12. In 'Captured by the Past'...well, Airëlus is like, eight mortal years older than Legolas, but because there was the whole thing with him coming back and everything, no-one is really sure of his age.

kathysidle: Thanks for wishing me good luck! And, why did you have glass in your lip? It sounds very painful!!!

Legolas-gurl88: Hey, that was one long review! Don't worry, you're not the only one feeling sorry for Calaen. Whenever my friends mention him, their voices are totally filled with contempt, and I'm just like 'don't be mean!' They think I'm weird for liking him. But hey...at least I'm not alone!

Rachel13: Yeah, definitely funny enough for the dramatic moment!!!

Haldir's Heart and Soul: Yeah, very sad! It's all really sad for a while I guess. I'm gonna join in with you guys and say 'poor everyone!'

Right, not that any of you want to know this, but I got four A's in my GCSE's (French, Spanish, English Lang. and Music, three C's (History, English Lit. and Maths), and an E in Biology. Go me for the E! Hey, it could've been worse. I could've got F or G. Or U, which is un-gradable! Ok, the nervousness is over, and now I can relax. That's cool.

Second thing I have to say is that it's my 16th Birthday tomorrow, and I'm going to London for the weekend, for the first time. So sadly, I won't be updating until Monday.

Third thing to say: I am so sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I wanted to update this chapter and the next, but then I realised that I haven't actually finished typing the next chapter. I would finish it now, but its gone midnight...Hey, it's been my Birthday for two minutes. Sorry, going off on a tangent there. Anyway, its midnight, and I have to get up at 6 in the morning tomorrow. Or today. Whatever.

Anyway, see you on Monday!


	8. Chapter 8

Legolas stood at the bottom of the tree, watching as his mother climbed up to the top. She had volunteered to go up and get the red leaf that he had wanted so much, but then he had changed his mind and asked for a different one, because it was like him: a green leaf. It looked as though he'd be getting both of them.

The child tensed suddenly as everything went silent and he lost sight of his mother. "Nana?" he called uncertainly. No answer. "Nana, are you still there?" Nothing.

Biting down on his lip, Legolas went forwards and began to climb the tree. He had been taught how to do this by his brothers, and although he was nowhere near as good as them yet, he was still good enough. The little Prince climbed higher and higher, and as he glanced back down at the ground, his head spun slightly. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Nana!" he called again.

Suddenly there was a cry of horror from above. "Legolas, stay where you are! Don't move. I'm coming to get you!"

Findilan spun around and jumped from the branch she was on and over to the next one. She landed gracefully, but as she did so, her hair whipped around her face and in her eyes. She made a noise of despair and leaped onto another branch, a little further down. But her vision was slighted. She misjudged.

With a cry of terror she scrabbled desperately, trying to find something to grab onto, something which would hold her up. But it was too late. She could not save herself. She fell. Branches ripped at her clothing and at her face. She felt nothing. Nothing except the rushing wind. She saw nothing. Nothing except the ground flying up to meet her.

"Nana!" screamed Legolas. There was a sudden silence as his mother hit the ground. "Nana."

Taking a deep breath, the Prince moved down to a slightly lower branch and jumped down onto the forest floor. His ankle twisted beneath him, and although tears filled his eyes, he tried to ignore the pain as he crawled over to his motionless mother. Thorns stuck into his hands as he moved, and although he could see spots of blood, he did not care.

"Nana," he whispered. "Nana, wake up. Nana, please."

Legolas reached out and shook her gently. As he did so, her arm fell limply to the side, and her hand, which was fisted around something, opened up. Two leaves lay in her palm: one red, one green.

Thranduil blinked in surprise as Legolas sat up with a start. It was morning, and although the Prince had found sleep, none had come to the King. He had sat in his study all night with his son wrapped up in his arms. The many hours had not been uneventful, though.

Legolas had not woken up once, however, he had cried out whilst dreaming, and Thranduil had only been able to try and ignore the fact that his son was calling for his mother, and was muttering 'don't fall'. The Elfling, who was now wide awake, looked up at his father and smiled.

"Hello. Did I fall asleep in here?"

"Yes. Yes, you did. I...Legolas, do you...not remember what happened yesterday?" asked Thranduil carefully. "Do you remember anything?"

Legolas nodded in earnest, and shifted positions so that he could face the King. "Yes, we went into the forest. Nana came with us but she didn't come back. I know why, though."

"Do you?" Thranduil sighed.

"Yes. Ada, I saw her last night. I saw her lots of times actually, but one time when I saw her, she told me that I can't be with her yet. She is picking flowers, I think," said Legolas. "She was holding some in her hand, and there were lots on the ground and all around her."

Thranduil shook his head, and touched a hand to his son's cheek. "No, you did not see her."

"I did."

"Alright, maybe you _did _see her. But...she was not actually here. You saw her only in your head, in a dream," said Thranduil gently. "Seeing something or someone whilst asleep is very different to seeing them in reality."

Legolas nodded slowly. "Alright. But I still saw her."

The Elven-king sighed, but did not press the matter. "What are you doing now?" His son had just slid down to the ground, and was taking something over to the centre of the floor.

"Drawing."

"What are you drawing?"

"Pictures."

"Of course you are," said Thranduil quietly. "Silly me."

He sighed and got up from his chair, only to swear quite violently, realising too late that there was an Elfling in his presence. He couldn't help it though: sitting in the same position for a whole night had taken its toll on his body, and he was stiff all over.

"Ada, I said that word one time, and you told me off," said Legolas reprovingly, without taking his eyes off his drawing. "You told me not to say it, but you just did."

"How very hypocritical of me," said Thranduil dryly.

"Hypo-what?"

"It means that if you...never mind," replied the King, shaking his head. He moved around to lean back on the front of his desk, and watched Legolas carefully. "What are you drawing?"

"Wait...a...minute," replied the Prince. He drew a few more squiggles, then lifted his first piece of parchment into the air. "Here you are. It is you, Ada."

Thranduil took the drawing, and could not help but smile – though it was very sad. "Ah Greenleaf, you have given me blue hair. Thank you very much."

"That's alright," giggled Legolas. "Did you see that I also gave you green skin?"

"It did not escape my notice," replied Thranduil, placing this latest masterpiece on top of all the rest of Legolas' works-of-art, which lay on the more personal side of his desk.

"I can do Calaen now," the Elfling announced. "He can have red hair."

Thranduil was silent for a moment, before moving forwards to kneel on the floor beside his son. "Legolas, can I ask you something? Has Ameldir ever taught you anything about...death?"

"Yes," was the reply. "It doesn't sound very nice."

"No. No, it doesn't. What did he...? Legolas, stop drawing for a moment," said Thranduil. "Thank you. Now, what exactly have you been told about death? Do you understand it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what it is, then."

Legolas tilted his head to one side, and looked up in surprise. "Why? Ada, do you not know what it is?"

"I know only too well what it is," replied Thranduil, and his eyes were cold. "Let me rephrase the request, then. I want you to tell me what you _think_ death is. Can you do that for me?"

"I think so. Ameldir told me that when someone dies, it means that their life has ended and their soul goes somewhere else," said Legolas.

"The Halls of Mandos."

"Yes. It sounds a very nice place. And, he told also told me that Elves can only die in two ways: battle or if their heart is broken," the Prince continued. "We can't die any other way. It's impossible"

Thranduil closed his eyes briefly, in despair. "Legolas, that is not entirely correct. There _are_ other ways for us to die. For example, poison could be slipped into an Elf's drink, and that Elf may not be able to survive the effects. Or...there is the possibility of falling from something."

"Like what?"

"You tell me."

Legolas shook his head slightly. What was the point of being told something, if the teller left it up to the listener to do the telling? "Well, an Elf could fall from a horse."

"What else?"

"Steps."

"And?"

"A bed."

Instead of replying, Thranduil stood up and went to glare out of the window. "This is ridiculous."

"Oh."

"No, I did not mean that _you_ are ridiculous," the King sighed. He shook his head helplessly, and tried to work out all of the muddled thoughts in his mind. How could he possibly tell a naïve and innocent Elfling that he was never going to see his mother again?

"Ada, are you alright?"

Thranduil turned and gazed at the child for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. This was it. "No. No, I am not alright. I...I need to talk with you."

Legolas immediately leapt to his feet and backed away a little. It was a natural reaction for him. Whenever someone said in that tone of voice that they needed to talk with him, it normally turned out bad for him. This time though, he couldn't remember doing anything.

"Do not look so nervous," said Thranduil gently, kneeling down once more and holding out a hand. "Come here, Greenleaf."

"Alright," said Legolas quietly, entwining his small fingers with his father's.

The Elven-king pulled him closer, but did not break the physical contact. "You are young, ion-nin. And if there was any way for me to keep this from you, I would, for a while. But that would be wrong of me. What I am about to tell you is-

The door opened then and Thranduil broke off, feeling the frustration rising once more. Airëlus and Calaen came in, both of them looking as though they had slept very little, but they also wore brave faces. Legolas cried out in delight and pulled away from his father, only to turn and jump into his eldest brother's arms.

"Oh. I see he slept well," said Calaen quietly.

Thranduil nodded, and put a hand on his dark haired son's shoulder. "Yes, he slept very well. He did not wake once. What about you?"

"I have had better nights, but it wasn't too bad," Calaen shrugged.

"You slept for an hour," said Airëlus, "two at the most."

Thranduil glanced over at the Crown Prince, and arched an eyebrow. "Then, you also had very little sleep, if you know that. Neither of you should have spent the night alone. Why did you not come here, to me?"

"We were alright," replied Calaen. "Airëlus stayed in with me."

"I stayed with Ada," said Legolas proudly.

Airëlus smiled, and tickled the child, even though his heart was not truly in it. "What did Ada want with you? He is a braver Elf than I am. I would not look after you even if I was paid pieces of gold."

"Yes, you would," giggled Legolas.

Thranduil inclined his head and smiled weakly at Airëlus, as a subtle way of thanking him for looking after the Elfling. "How do you feel now?" He had directed the question towards his two elder sons, but it was not they who replied.

"Hungry," said Legolas promptly.

"You always want to eat." Thranduil shook his head slightly. "Go to your room and get changed, then when you come back here, I can have food brought up."

Calaen stepped out of the way as the little blonde tornado whirled from the room. "Ada, is he alright? He seems very...normal. Does he not understand that Naneth is....? Does he not understand what has happened?"

"There is a very big difference between understanding and knowing something," Thranduil sighed. "He understands the concept of death, though it is in a very...naïve way."

"Do you mean to say that he does not know of what has happened?" demanded Airëlus.

"Yes. I was just about to tell him when you two came in," replied Thranduil. "It is partly my fault that he is so ignorant of such matters. I have tried to shield him from anything that can hurt him, as I did with the both of you also."

"Why?" asked Airëlus quietly.

"You are my children. I only wish to protect you," said Thranduil. "It never once occurred to me that something like this would ever happen in our lives, let alone when one of you were still too young to comprehend it. Now, I must pay the price for my stupidity."

"Legolas has to be told," said Airëlus.

"Like I said, I was about to tell him when you two came in. We have to go and see her... her body," said Thranduil slowly, shuddering inwardly even as the words left his lips. "It will not be easy for any of you, I understand that. But it will give us time to say goodbye to her privately."

"Will we go today?" asked Airëlus.

"We will do nothing that you two feel uncomfortable with," replied Thranduil, his voice gentle. "If you wish for time, we will wait for a few days. If you would rather go today, then we will go. If we do, though, I will tell Legolas when he-

"Don't!"

Thranduil looked across at Calaen, and arched an eyebrow. "Why not? He needs to know, and he needs to be prepared for what he is going to see. He needs to... he does not understand. He needs to."

"Yes, but he will not believe you, Ada," said Calaen. "You know this. It will merely cause more problems, and he will refuse to go to the Houses of Mourning. Put yourself in his place. Would you accept something like that?"

Thranduil sighed, but did not answer the question. "What would you have me do, then?"

"Say nothing at the moment. When he sees her body, he will ask questions. Tell him then," replied Calaen. "Can you really see him believing you if you were to tell him when he comes back here? At least if he is told later, he will be able to....to look upon her, and she that she is...Tell him then, Ada."

The Elven-king thought silently for a moment, but nodded eventually. "Maybe...maybe you are right. Airëlus?"

"If you think that would be best."

"I suppose that-

There was a firm knocking on the door then, and at a nod from his father, Airëlus stepped forwards to open it. The person who walked into the study was expected by no-one. The two Princes stared in wonder, whilst Thranduil blinked, wondering if he was imagining things.

"This," said the newcomer, holding out a wriggling Elfling by the neck of his tunic, "belongs to you, I think."

............................................................................................................

Rachel13: Hey, don't worry about not getting me a Ferrari. A Porsche will do just fine! LOL

Pippin the hobbit-elf: Well, A is the highest grade you can get, and that is amazingly good. Then it goes A, B, C, D, E, F and G. There's also a U, and that basically means that your work is so bad, it's un-graded. A-C is pretty good, whilst D onwards isn't really that great. Our SAT's are different to yours. You take them at the age of around 6, 10, and 13. It's basically so the Government can see that you're learning enough for your age. They're pretty pointless, actually.

Jedi Gollum: Well, I haven't really planned to write anything else about what happened after 'A Brother's Jealousy', except the alternate ending, of course, so I doubt that there'll ever be anything about Aradan's mother. Sorry!

Legolas-gurl88: Yes, you were definitely close in guessing how he looks like! When I first saw the picture, I was like 'Wow, that is so Calaen!' I'm really looking forward to seeing more of your artwork. It is so good!

Lombadia Greenleaf: Yeah, most of Evanescence's music makes me sad, but that's mainly because the words of the songs mean a lot to me, and I used to and still can relate to a lot of them. Those socks sound cool. I want a pair!

Haldir's Heart and Soul: Oh, Berian definitely plays a big part later on! Calaen's change is also coming pretty soon, also!

Aranel of Mirkwood: Oh, you're going into Yr11? It's hard work, but definitely the best year for me, cos you get to have so many privileges, cos you're at the top of the school and everything.

Elensar32: Calaen will definitely be finding out in this story, though you'll have to wait a few chapters to read that. Sorry!

Kelsey: I didn't fail English. I got one A and one C. I didn't fail any of my exams. Where do you come from? America? Out here, anything from C upwards is considered good. I was happy to get an E in biology because I was predicted an even lower grade, the teacher hated me and I hated her, she lost my coursework for the exam three times and denied that I even gave it to her, and was, in general, a bad teacher. Don't worry, you haven't offended me. A lot of people who aren't from England don't understand the grading scale!

Hey, I bet you all know who this newcomer is? Whoever guesses can have...a box of cyber cookies. Or something. Or just the satisfaction of knowing that you got it right. Whatever. Anyway, London was great, amazing! I'll see you all on Wednesday! By the way, The Calcium Kid comes out today! Yay!!!


	9. Chapter 9

"You have a most amazing habit of turning up in times of need," said Thranduil. "And now I think we need you more than ever before."

"Do any of you wish to take the Elfling, or shall we leave him dangling in the air? Not that I mind, of course," said Gandalf pleasantly. "I am quite content either way."

"Oh, I'll take him," said Airëlus, stepping forward to relieve the Istar of the squirming bundle. "Mithrandir, might I ask what you are doing here?"

"Of course you may," replied Gandalf. "I was actually passing through Laketown, and news reached my ears of the happenings in your Realm. When I heard, I left straight away, naturally."

"You heard," said Calaen quietly.

Gandalf nodded, and sat down in a chair at the side of the room. "Yes. Yes, I heard."

"Heard what?" asked Legolas.

Thranduil shook his head violently at the bemused Wizard. "Nothing, Greenleaf. Are you still hungry? Of course you are. Go down to the kitchens and see if the cooks have anything for you. Go on."

For the second time in only ten minutes, Legolas skipped from the room. Gandalf watched him leave, then turned penetrating eyes upon Thranduil. The Elven-king held the gaze for a moment before looking away, wondering vaguely at the fact that he was always made to feel like a mere child in the Wizard's presence.

"He does not know," said Gandalf quietly.

"No," was the even quieter response.

Gandalf was silent for a brief moment as he flicked his eyes across to Calaen and Airëlus. "I don't suppose you two could go and supervise your brother, could you? A kitchen is no place for a hungry Elfling."

"But-

"No, of course we will," said Airëlus, glancing sideways at Calaen.

Gandalf waited for a moment until the Princes had left, then went forwards and put a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "It is very soon after your wife passed on, and I am sure that you are hurting, but...why does Legolas not know?"

"He witnessed her death," Thranduil sighed, "yet he acts as though nothing has happened. I expected him to be at least a little affected by what he saw, but he is not. He carries on as though everything is the same."

"It is not un-common for this to happen. Whenever a tragedy occurs, many forget it because they cannot bear to think of it," said Gandalf. "Yes, he saw what happened, and it remains at the very back of his mind, where it has been pushed by natural instincts. It is his way of protecting himself from the truth. But you must bring this knowledge forward. He cannot do it."

Thranduil nodded slowly, and his eyes were sad. "I know. We were going to go to the Houses of Mourning later. I was going to tell him whilst there."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Do you really think he would believe me at this stage?"

Gandalf was silent for a moment, but nodded eventually. "Maybe you make a fair point. He will not take the news well, Thranduil. You must help him as much as possible."

"What else would I do?"

"I mean, you must help him by making sure that you keep your temper in check, no matter how hard things get. It is not rare for you to lose it on occasions," said Gandalf sternly. "He will need as much love as you can give him."

"He will get it," said Thranduil quietly.

Gandalf nodded in satisfaction. "Good. And what of your other two?"

"Airëlus seems to have taken it upon himself to make sure that everyone else is well. It seems to serve as a distraction from the grief, but I fear he may neglect his own feelings," Thranduil sighed. "Calaen shed many tears last night, but he found comfort in Airëlus. The small age difference is good, as each know what the other feels."

"So long as you all hold together as a family, you will get through this," said Gandalf. "However, I will be staying for a while to help you, also."

............................................................................................................

That afternoon, the Royal Family of Mirkwood had changed into robes for a more sombre occasion. That is, all except Legolas, who wore his usual attire. Thranduil had asked him to wear something more suitable, but the Prince had only kicked up a fuss when no explanation had been given, so the matter had been left alone.

They now stood in the Houses of Mourning, waiting to go and look on Queen Findilan's body. They were all silent and waiting patiently – at least, as patiently as they could be, considering the circumstances – but Legolas was restless, claiming there was 'nothing to do' except blow out all the candles.

But then, Thranduil suddenly went forwards and swept the Elfling into his arms. Calaen and Airëlus glanced at each other nervously. This was it. They were going into the room which held their mother's body.

**Thranduil's POV**

There she is: my wife; the mother of my children; the one I am bound to; the one I gave my heart to. She still has it, even though she is no longer with me. She has always been beautiful, but how can I describe her now? Radiant? Ethereal? Breathtaking? No, there are no words worthy.

There are tears in my eyes, but no-one notices them. I will not let them fall. At least, not in front of the children. If they think that I am strong, maybe it will help them. It is better for them not to see, especially Legolas.

Ah, Legolas. He wants to get down and see his mother. Should I let him? No, I want to keep him here and protect him from what he will soon find out. As usual, though, he takes matters into his own hands, and jumps from my arms, down to the ground.

The questions come first. Nana, did you pick many flowers? Nana? Nana, talk to me. Ada, why won't she talk to me? Have I done something to upset her? Now he sees that her eyes are closed. The tears come. They are not only from him.

**Airëlus' POV**

I have only shed tears once so far, and that was in the forest. Maybe I should, but I just want to try and be strong for Ada and Calaen. Legolas will also need me soon enough. Now that I am here, though, looking at her, I _want _to cry for her.

I wonder what's happening now. I can see Calaen going forwards to Legolas, and Legolas looks stricken. I have ceased listening to them, though. I cannot bear to hear what words pass between them all. My youngest brother is now beginning to understand everything, and I don't want to witness that.

I stare straight ahead. Maybe it is better this way. Maybe it is better if I remain oblivious to all that is going on.

**Calaen's POV**

This is all so wrong. We should not be standing here, in the Houses of Mourning, and it should not be Naneth lying here in front of us. Why did this even happen to us? No, I know the answer to that: Legolas.

No! No, I don't mean that. Of course I don't. I have heard stories of death occurring because of one single Elf, and blame being placed on him by others. But, do I blame Legolas? He is so innocent, but...it is because of his childish wants that out mother has died.

Valar, why am I thinking like this? Of course Legolas is not to blame. I go forwards now and lift him into my arms, maybe just to give myself something to do, something to distract myself from these thoughts. Damn those eyes, so naïve and confused. How can I blame him? No, I merely had a moment of despair.

I will not think this way again. I love Legolas. Never will I try and place the blame on him again. Never.

**Legolas' POV**

Everyone is behaving so strangely: Ada, Airëlus, Cal. If Nana was here, she wouldn't be strange, I know. This place is also strange. I don't like it. I can't see very much, but that may be because I am blowing all the candles on the wall out. Oh. Ada stops me and he picks me up. Maybe we are leaving now! Oh. No, we're not.

We're in another room now, and its even darker than the last one. I can't see anything except...Nana! We have come to see Nana! I knew it would not be long before she came back. She looks very nice. But she hasn't got any flowers.

Oh. She...she isn't talking to me. I ask Ada if I have done something to upset her, but he says no. I didn't think I had done anything wrong. Maybe she is just asleep, then. But why would she want to sleep in here? I wouldn't.

Cal picks me up now, and he makes me look down at Nana. Her eyes are shut! They should not be shut. I don't like this. I just want to go home, and I want Nana to be with me, with her eyes open. I want to understand.

............................................................................................................

Legolas turned away from his mother's body, and threw his arms around Calaen's neck. "Why?" he whispered, burying his face in the elder Prince's hair. "Why are her eyes...?"

Calaen reached up with one hand to swipe away the tears rolling down his own cheeks, and looked helplessly at Thranduil. "Ada, I can't..."

"I'll take him," said the King gently, moving back and pulling Legolas into his own arms. "I will let you two have a moment alone with your mother. If you need me, I will be outside."

Resting his hand briefly first of all on Calaen's shoulder, and then Airëlus', Thranduil smiled gently and went over to the door. He thought that Legolas would protest, wanting to stay close to Queen Findilan, but the small boy was silent. Thranduil sighed, and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Legolas, do you understand now?" he asked gently. "Speak to me, and tell me what thoughts are in your mind."

"Her eyes. Closed," was the murmured reply.

"Yes. Yes, they are closed. But, do you know why her eyes are closed?" asked Thranduil, reaching down and lifting Legolas' chin. "No, look at me, Greenleaf, not away. Do you know?"

"I thought Nana was asleep," whispered the Elfling.

Thranduil bit down hard on his lip and slowly shook his head, pulling his son closer to him. "No, she is not asleep. Nana is...Valar help me...Legolas, Nana is...dead."

The young Prince stared up into his father's glistening eyes in shock. "Ada, don't say that. Nana isn't dead. She can't be."

"I am so sorry," breathed Thranduil. "I would not say this if it was not true. Nana is dead. But know that she is at peace. She is so happy where she has gone, believe me."

"No," said Legolas quietly. "No. You're a liar, Ada."

"Please-

"Put me down," snapped the Elfling, and his silver eyes shimmered with tears. "Put me down, Ada. You're a liar and you're lying about Nana. She isn't dead, she isn't, and you're horrible for saying that about her!"

Thranduil had to blink back his own tears as he lowered his son to the ground. "Please, just stay still and listen to me. I am not...Legolas, stay where you are. Don't-!"

Too late. The Elfling had already pulled away and darted around the corner, golden hair flying behind him. Thranduil cursed and made to go after him, but the sound of someone...no, two someone's sobbing came from the other room, and he shook his head in frustration as turned on his heel and pushed open the door to go into them. Legolas would return to the palace. His other sons needed comfort now.

............................................................................................................

Jedi Gollum: Wow, that shop sounds pretty cool! There's a shop where I live, and you can get LOTR candle holders, and Elvish necklaces and rings and bracelets and stuff, and that's pretty cool. I have three necklaces, but I don't have enough money to get some of the other stuff. I'm so deprived!

kathysidle: Don't worry: the mean-ness is on its way!

Legolas-gurl88: Oh, it will be very interesting to see the Aradan and Calaen drawing! In fact, it will be interesting to see anything that you do, cos, I know I've said this before, but you are a great artist!

Rachel13: Poor you, starting school today. I start college next Wednesday, after having eleven whole weeks of nothing-ness, so that was pretty cool. But soon, I have to start with the work again. How horrible!

Kelsey: Yeah, Calaen finds out a bit later on about who he is, and the mean-ness is coming soon. It's not immediate mean-ness, but it is definitely there! And there'll also be Legolas and Airëlus interaction!

Elensar32: Poor you, getting lost! If its any consolation, I spent five years of my life at a private school, where the total number of students was 260. Next Wednesday, I start college, where the total number of people is over 1500. Very scared!

The only reason I wrote part of this chapter as POV's, was because I had actually already done that scene in 'Jealousy', as a flashback, and I didn't want to have it again. Oh, I need your help, all of you. At the moment, I'm writing the chapters where Calaen finds out (I think you all know what I'm talking about?), and although I've already planned how those chapters are gonna be, would you like to see a flashback with Findilan and her man? Any other flashbacks you'd like to see set around that time? I'd be interested to hear your opinions on it.

Misto

x-x

PS: You can all have cyber cookies, even if you didn't guess right. I'll be kind. But, Jedi Gollum? Don't expect it all the time. The mean Misto only stays away for a certain amount of time.


	10. Chapter 10

Panic was what King Thranduil felt initially, when he was standing underneath the trees and staring down at the small set of footprints leading into the forest. He had just come out of the Houses of Mourning with Calaen and Airëlus, who were calm now, though it was seemingly too late to prevent Legolas from going off on his own.

"Ada, we must follow him," said one of the Princes. Thranduil did not know which.

"No. No, I will go after him. Calaen, you go back to the palace and see if he is inside," said the King. "Airëlus, find out from the patrol which returned today, if there were any Orc sightings. Go!"

Calaen had already turned on his heel and was running back up to the palace, but Airëlus had not moved. "Ada, do you wish for me to send out a patrol so they can help look for him? That is, if he remains in the forest."

"Yes," said Thranduil quietly. His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realised it was raining, and the imprints of Legolas' small feet were being washed away. "Yes, get a patrol. Just as a precaution."

"Of course."

The Elven-king silently uttered a quick prayer to the Valar as he began pushing through the foliage, not taking his eyes off the ground. He wondered vaguely when nature had begun to shed her tears – probably when they had been in the Houses of Mourning.

"Please, keep my son safe," he muttered. "I have already lost one who I treasure. Do not take another from me."

Thirty minutes later, and the forest was still in the process of being searched by patrols, though there was now very little sign of the young Prince. The rain had washed away his footprints, causing worry to rise in everyone's heart, Thranduil's not least. He had stopped feeling just panic a while back. Now there was fear, anxiety, despair, helplessness, a maelstrom of emotions that, along with the grief he felt at his wife's death, threatened to push the usually strong Elven-king over the edge.

"Where is he?" Thranduil ground out, tossing his now soaking hair back over his shoulder. "Why has there been no sign of him?"

"Your Highness, the rain is not helping us at all. Nature has decided not to be kind today," said Suithien gently. As Captain of one of Mirkwood's patrols, the veteran soldier was used to his King's impatience. "Might I suggest you go back to the palace? Maybe your son has returned there."

"Chance would be a fine thing," Thranduil sighed. "You say he may have returned there, but he could still be out here somewhere."

"Fair enough, but if the Prince is safe with Mithrandir, you have been worrying without cause," Suithien shrugged. "At least your heart would be at ease."

Thranduil smiled vaguely, and nodded. "Alright. Yes, I will return to the palace. If you find anything, though, anything at all out here which tells of his whereabouts, I wish to be informed immediately."

"You will be," said Suithien patiently.

"And if Legolas is not at the palace, I am coming back out here to look for him," Thranduil continued.

"Your Highness, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but will you please leave us now, so that we may do our job?" asked the Captain. "Thank you."

Thranduil burst into his study and pulled off his dripping wet cloak, not particularly surprised to see Gandalf sitting in one of the chairs, smoking calmly. "There was no sign of him, Mithrandir. His footprints were washed away, and there was not even a piece of torn clothing. There was nothing."

"No, there would not be," said Gandalf patiently.

"What do you mean?" demanded Thranduil.

The Wizard smiled, and puffed on his pipe. "I mean, there would be no signs of an Elfling in the forest, because there is no Elfling in the forest. His whereabouts only came to my attention ten minutes back, and I have already sent out a messenger to inform your patrols. I am quite surprised that you did not encounter him on your way here."

"So, are you saying that Legolas is here? In the palace?" pressed Thranduil.

"If you were to ask me if I have seen him, I would say no. On the other hand...I would also say yes," replied Gandalf.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the Istar. "I ask of you...no, _beg _of you not to talk in riddles. What in all of Arda do you mean?"

"Ah, forgive me. No, I have not actually seen him with my own eyes, though I have seen a part of him," said Gandalf. "His cloak lay discarded on the floor. Follow the muddy footprints, and you will find him."

Legolas' eyes slowly re-focused, and as they did, the horrible realization of what he had done, hit him. He had cried himself to sleep on his parents' bedroom floor upon returning from the forest. Distraught, he had wanted comfort from his mother, but of course, she was not there. Her clothes, however, were.

The young Prince had taken one of her gowns – a long, silky blue one – and had curled up on the floor with it, sobbing into the folds. But his grief was so much that he had remained oblivious to the mud and rain from his own clothes that had dirtied it.

"Please come off," he breathed, rubbing frantically at one of the marks. "Please, everyone will get angry with me. I don't want that."

The mud had already dried, and although Legolas could pick some of it off, there were still dark brown stains all over it. Tears of frustration mixed with guilt filled his eyes. He hadn't meant to do it, of course he hadn't.

"I just wanted Nana," the child whispered, burying his face in the damp gown. But as he did so, the door flew open with a crash, and King Thranduil stormed into the room. So relieved was he to see his son alive and well – albeit a little dirty – that he did not see his wife's dress on the floor. He dropped to the ground and pulled Legolas to him.

"You're safe," he breathed, closing his eyes. "I was so worried for you, but you're alright. You're not hurt. Ai Greenleaf, why did you leave? Why? Why did you do that?"

"I'm sorry," whispered the Prince.

Relief turned to anger in a flash, and Thranduil took his son none-too-gently by the shoulders. "You're sorry? It's a bit damned late for that, Legolas. Do you have any idea what you have put us through? Your brothers are sick with worry, and I was close to despair. So close, in fact, that I even had patrols out looking for you!"

"I didn't think," muttered Legolas.

"There is no need to tell me that. You are not even allowed into the forest on your own. You could have been seriously hurt," hissed the King. "I have only just lost my wife. I do not want to have to bury my son with her!"

Legolas lowered his gaze to the floor, and just as his father was about to apologize for what he had said, he caught sight of Findilan's gown. His eyes burned with rage, and when he looked back at Legolas, in those few moments, he saw him only as one who had taken a memory of the Queen...and destroyed it.

"I'm so sorry, Ada," whispered the child, backing away a little.

All was silent in the room, and although only a few seconds passed between Legolas' sorrowful words and the actions that Thranduil would come to regret, it seemed like a whole eternity. Then, as though in slow motion, the Elven-king's hand appeared out of nowhere, and it swept through the air like a blade.

Legolas' eyes widened in horror and he tried to dodge out of the way, though he was not fast enough. Thranduil struck him. Not hard, but hard enough to knock an Elfling to the ground. That was indeed what happened. Stunned, it took a moment for the pain to kick in, and tears to fill the Prince's eyes.

"Get out of my sight," Thranduil hissed, not realizing, in his grief, what he had done and what he was saying. "Go, now!"

A red mark was already burning on the side of his face but that was not what scared Legolas. His ears were ringing violently, and he could hear nothing, nothing at all. Of his own accord, he forced himself to crawl over to the door, but down on his knees, he could not reach the handle.

'_What have you done?'_ Thranduil's mind screamed, even as he jerked open the door and then turned away. _'By the Valar, he is only a baby, and you just...you...'_

As the horrible realization really hit of what he had just done, the Elven-king was sick with disgust. How could he have done that? Blinded by tears, Thranduil slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, and he pulled his wife's gown across to him.

"Fin, if you only knew what I have done," he breathed. "Meleth-nin, I just...I just hit Legolas. I hit our Greenleaf, our baby. What good am I going to be to the children? Already I am breaking."

After leaving his father, Legolas had managed to crawl to his own room, and was now sitting in there on Gandalf's lap, a damp cloth pressed to his cheek. He could hear well enough now; it was only the Elven-king's strong arm that had done the temporary damage. If Thranduil had used his full strength, the child surely would have been much worse off.

"Come now, tell me what happened," said Gandalf gently.

"I...I ran into the forest because I didn't know what else to do. But then it started to rain and I got wet," Legolas sighed. "I fell over and got muddy, so I came back here. I came through the trees, though, so that no-one would see me."

"I did not think that Elflings were allowed in the forest on their own," said Gandalf.

Legolas merely lowered his eyes. "When I got back here, I went upstairs to find Nana, to show Ada that he was wrong. I thought she would've come back from that dark place. But she wasn't there, Mithrandir. But her clothes were, and they smell of her. So, I...I got one of her dresses, and I pretended it was her. It smelt like her."

"You only wanted comfort from your mother," said Gandalf, his voice sorrowful. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, until I woke up," replied Legolas, tears filling his eyes again. "I had made her dress dirty because there was mud on my clothes. I didn't mean to, Mithrandir, and I tried to clean it, I tried to make it all better again, but it wouldn't work. I tried, I really did."

Gandalf put a comforting hand on Legolas' back. "I know you tried, little one."

"Ada came in and he was happy to see me at first, but then he saw the dress and he got angry at me," whispered Legolas. "I said I was sorry, but I think that made him feel worse. He...he hit me."

As the tears began to spill, the child turned his face into Gandalf's robes, and the Wizard sighed. "Your father is a very good Elf, despite his temper sometimes getting the better of him. He did not mean for this to happen, and is feeling very sorry right now."

"How do you know?" sniffed Legolas.

"Because he loves you more than anyone can know," Gandalf said gently. "He would do anything for you and your brothers, no matter what the consequences for himself."

Legolas raised his tear stained face. "I shouldn't have run away, because he was telling the truth. When I was asleep, I saw Nana, and she told me that I must believe him, but also that she is happy. Is she happy, Mithrandir?"

"Yes, she is very happy," replied Gandalf. "Given some time, your father will also be happy. You must help him-

"By not going into the forest and getting dirty," Legolas suggested.

"Quite. But he must also help you. In fact, all four of you must help each other," said Gandalf. "Whenever you feel down, just remember that your mother has not left you. She will always be in your heart and memory, yes?"

Legolas nodded, and leaned back against Gandalf's shoulder. "Yes. And although she will be with me in spirit, she won't be in body."

The Wizard blinked, surprised to hear such wise and calm words come from an Elfling who still had tears rolling from his eyes. "Yes, exactly. You are a very clever child."

"If I was clever, I would've believed Ada and not called him a liar," Legolas sighed. "If I was clever, I would've got clean before taking one of Nana's dresses. So you see, I am not clever."

Gandalf smiled and drew back a little, holding the boy at arm's length. "Well, if you have inherited your father's stubbornness, I suppose there is no point in me trying to convince you otherwise. Now, I hope you have no more tears to shed."

"Why?"

"Well, I will have to start wringing out my beard in a moment," said Gandalf seriously.

Legolas giggled, and his face shone once more. "No, there are no more tears to come. Do you want something to dry yourself with?"

The Wizard was silent for a moment, apparently deep in contemplation. "No. No, I think I will be alright, thank you all the same. I would offer you something for your own face, but I see you have already dried it on me."

As he heard Legolas laugh quietly at Gandalf's last comment, Thranduil stepped silently into his son's room. He had stood outside and listened to everything that had been said, and if he claimed that he had not been moved, he would have been lying.

Over on the edge of the bed, Gandalf looked up and inclined his head, smiling gently. As Thranduil went forwards, the movement alerted Legolas, and he watched nervously as his father sat next to him.

"I think," said Gandalf quietly, moving across to the door, "I will leave you two alone."

"Goodbye," whispered Legolas.

Thranduil was silent for a moment as he tried to calm his own nerves. He was vaguely aware of the young Prince shifting uncomfortably on the bed. Legolas clearly would rather be elsewhere, somewhere where he would be safe. That hurt, though Thranduil knew he deserved it.

"Tears."

The Elven-king looked down and shook his head slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Tears," Legolas whispered, reaching up and touching his father's damp cheek. "Ada, there are tears."

Thranduil nodded, and a few more silvery drops fell from his eyes. "Yes, there are. Tears for you, for your brothers, your mother, and... and for what I have done to you."

"I'm sorry," breathed Legolas, lunging forwards to throw his arms around the King's neck. "I'm so sorry, I-

"Don't," whispered Thranduil. He closed his eyes as he felt his son's face being buried into his chest, and, exhaling deeply, he wrapped his arms around the boy. "You must not apologize, for you have done nothing wrong, nothing at all. It is I who must be sorry, and I am, Legolas, I am."

"I know," the Prince nodded. "Ada, I...I know about Nana. I believe you, and I know that you aren't a liar."

Thranduil leaned back a little, and looked down into his son's face. "You do? But what made you change your mind?

"Mithrandir. Though, I think I knew all the time, but I was just too afraid to tell myself that it was true," said Legolas slowly. "It was nice to pretend that Nana would come back, because it made me feel happy."

"But now you know," Thranduil sighed. "And now that you know Nana will not be coming back, how do you feel?"

"A little bit sad," said Legolas quietly. "But Mithrandir told me that she will be happy, so I think it would be selfish of me if I were to want anything else for her."

Thranduil smiled vaguely, and as he did so, his eyes traveled to the red mark on Legolas' cheek. _'Don't look at it,'_ he thought sharply. _'You need to try and forget what has_ _happened, else, how are you going to live with yourself. Stop thinking about it.'_

"Ada?"

"No, it would not be selfish of you to think that," the Elven-king replied. "For, Nana would also be very happy if she was here with us. It is not selfish of you to want her back."

"Do you?"

Thranduil pulled the Elfling closer once more, and stared at the opposite wall. "I want many things, Legolas, but sadly, they are things which I cannot have. Though, to answer your question more accurately, then yes. Yes, I do wish that your mother was back."

Legolas was about to reply, when he suddenly heard footsteps out in the corridor. He looked over at the door, and he smiled weakly when Airëlus and Calaen burst in. They pulled up sharply and stared at him for a moment, before the dark haired Prince, overcome with sadness and relief, darted forwards to sit on the bed.

"I was so afraid for you," he breathed. "I thought you would not return. I could not bear to lose you so soon after...after..."

"Hush, say no more. Your brother is back safe," Thranduil said gently, removing one arm from around Legolas' body, and wrapping it instead around Calaen. As he did so, the King watched his eldest son.

"Oh. I can go," said Airëlus quietly, mistaking the look on his father's face.

"You will do no such thing. We are a family, and no matter what has happened to us, we are not going to let ourselves be further separated," said Thranduil.

Airëlus stood in silence for a moment, before going forwards to sit beside his father. He rested his head on Thranduil's shoulder, and exhaled deeply as a strong arm pulled him closer. Legolas leaned back a little to look at his family, and when he saw the tears falling from their eyes, he was not confused.

He understood perfectly now, why they cried.

Jedi Gollum: Wow, that's a lot of people at your school! A lot of the schools out here have over 1000 people also, but I think I preferred my smaller school. It was nice, because everyone knows each other. By the way, how is your Elrond action figure?

kathysidle: Hey, he did go into the forest. You were close in what you guessed. You know, its funny, but loads of people are looking forwards to the mean-ness of Calaen! I've been writing him mean for about a week now. It's interesting.

Pippin the hobbit-elf: Oh, I'm very sorry for your friend, and also you. Death is a very big thing, I think, and it is so hard to understand, to anyone. I've even heard of adults who can't comprehend what's going on. I'm lucky in that I've never lost anyone close to me, so I find it very hard whenever one of my friends loses someone, cos I just don't know what to say.

Lady Leeanne: Oh yeah, I definitely cried when I wrote it. The thing is, I was listening to the Titanic soundtrack at the time, so that made it all really emotional also. Poor Legolas. Thanks for that piece if your sister's birthday cake! It was my birthday on Friday, and when I went to London, there was still cake left. When I got back, it had been devoured by my brother and father. How rude! They didn't even save me any, and it was my cake in the first place!

princess vespa: Oh, the Calcium Kid was great, so funny! Orlando was really good in it. No, I haven't seen that film. Is that good?

Legolas-gurl88: Ha ha, it's funny that you thought that about Calaen when you read what he was thinking. I often do that, but a lot of the time, I think out loud, so I end up shouting at the characters. It's so funny, and my friends laugh at me so much!

Halimanya: I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you! If its any consolation, I'll tell you now. I have started the prequel. It is up, and ready to be read.

Kelsey: Thank you for the help. I love getting reviews from you, because a lot of the stuff you say, always helps me out! Thank you!

Warriormaid 3000: Don't worry, I definitely wouldn't be writing anything about...that. It would just be dialogue between them, more than likely.

Ok, that was a sad chapter. Poor Thranduil. He's stressed. Poor Airëlus. He thought he wasn't wanted. Poor Calaen. He's beginning to feel strange about Legolas. And poor Legolas. He's...well, poor him. Poor Findilan. She's dead.

Anyway, thanks so much for the help you have me about those flashbacks! Next chapter will be up on Sunday.

Luv Misto

x-x


	11. Chapter 11

King Thranduil stood in silence beside Legolas' bed, staring unseeingly at the opposite wall. Today was the day he had been dreading. Today was the day his wife was going to be laid to rest. Nearly a whole week – though it seemed much longer – had passed since her death, and although every member of the Royal Family were still grieving, they were slowly getting by with the help of each other. And of course, Gandalf.

Sighing, Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed and watched the sleeping child for a moment longer, before touching a hand to his shoulder. "Legolas. Legolas, wake up. It is the morning, pen-neth."

The Prince's eyes slowly re-focused, and he looked up into his father's face. "Hello. I wish you had left me sleeping, and not woken me."

"Why?" asked Thranduil, as his son sat up and pushed some hair from his eyes.

"Because I haven't forgotten what day it is," Legolas sighed, "though I was hoping that maybe everyone else would. When I was asleep, I was not thinking about Nana. Well, I was, but not about today. Now I am, though."

Thranduil nodded once in understanding. "You could hope as much as you wished, Greenleaf, but there is nothing which can stop the next day from coming."

"Except death," said Legolas quietly.

The Elven-king snapped his head up, though he eventually nodded with reluctance. "Yes. Yes, that is true." He sighed, and drew the Elfling into his arms. "Come, it is time for you to get ready. Your clothes have been set out over on that chair."

Legolas slid down to the ground and went over to where he had been directed, only to stare at the clothes. "I haven't seen these before, Ada. Are they new?"

"Hmm, specially made," Thranduil nodded, glancing over at the silver tunic. "I know you are used to clothes of a more...casual disposition, but your normal attire would not be suitable for a day like this."

"No. No, I suppose not," Legolas replied.

The King went over by the window and leant against the wall, staring downwards. "Go on, get changed. Unless you want me to help you."

"No," said Legolas quietly, gazing down without blinking as he did up the clasps on the new tunic. Having not been worn before, it was more stiff than the Elfling was used to, but he wanted to be as much help as possible today.

"A while after you went to bed last night, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel arrived, with many other Elves from Lorien," Thranduil said quietly. "I do not doubt that there will be anything else from you, but I want best behaviour, hmm?"

"Hmm." Legolas paused for a moment, before going forwards to tug on the Elven-king's robes. "Ada..."

Thranduil looked down, expecting to see what he did every day: his son's clothes in complete disarray, the tunic clasps done up incorrectly. His expectations were wrong, though. "Oh Legolas, you did it on your own. You did it without help."

The Prince smiled as he was lifted up into strong arms. "I thought that it would be better if _I _helped _you _today, Ada. You don't need to be bothered by silly things like me getting dressed."

'Even today he can make me smile,' thought Thranduil. He ran a hand through the Elfling's golden – but knotted – tresses as he went back over to the bed. "That was very thoughtful of you, Greenleaf, and I appreciate it. Now though, I must brush your hair. It looks like a bird's nest."

"It feels like one," Legolas sighed.

Thranduil laughed quietly and set the child down on the bed, though just as he turned to pick up the brush, the door opened and Calaen came in. Dressed in robes of a deep red, his dark skin and ebony hair were complimented. Resting on his brow was a silver circlet, akin to the one that Legolas would wear.

"Ada, I thought you would wish to know that the party from Rivendell have been sighted," he said quietly. "They will be here very soon."

"Thank you," Thranduil nodded. "Then, I must go down to meet them. Would you mind staying here to help your brother, Calaen? It is only his hair which must be done."

The Prince nodded once. "Of course."

As he passed the brush across to his son, Thranduil put a hand on his shoulder, and whispered, "Are you well? Do you feel alright about today?"

"Not ecstatic," the dark haired Elf shrugged. "And yourself?"

"Fine, but worry not for me," replied Thranduil. He smiled gently, and locked his blue eyes onto green ones. "Of course you are not ecstatic. But do not forget that I will be with you, every step of the way, ion-nin."

Legolas watched in silence as his father and elder brother spoke in hushed tones. That was a bit useless, as his sharp hearing caught every word that was said. Not that he understood everything. He wondered vaguely what 'ecstatic' meant, and resolved to find out before he forgot.

"Ada wants to leave your hair down today," Calaen said, jerking the Elfling from his thoughts as he came to sit on the bed. "It will not be braided, so that's one less thing to worry about, hmm?"

"What does 'ecstatic' mean?" asked Legolas.

Calaen was silent for a moment as he began pulling the brush through his brother's hair. "It means to be...happy, thrilled, overjoyed. You were listening in on my conversation with Ada."

"It was hard not to," Legolas shrugged.

Hmm. What would...what would your answer be if I were to ask you the question which Ada asked of me?" Calaen said. "How do you feel about today?"

Legolas lowered his gaze to the ground, and his voice was only just audible. "I'm nervous. There will be lots if important Elves here, won't there?"

"Yes, but you have probably seen some of them before," replied Calaen. "Why should that make you nervous?"

"Ada told me to be on my best behaviour today, but I am afraid that I might cry in front of them," Legolas whispered. "I don't want to make Ada angry today."

Calaen put the brush on the bed, and pulled the child up onto his lap. "That will not be misbehaving, Greenleaf. No, Ada will feel no anger at all if you should cry. Besides, there will be more than one Elf who sheds tears today."

"A lot of people loved Nana," said Legolas quietly.

"Yes, and they always will," replied Calaen. He picked up the brush and resumed the work on his brother's hair. "Forget Ada for a moment or two. How do you feel about saying goodbye to Naneth?"

"Still nervous because I don't really know what will happen," Legolas sighed. "And sad, because I don't want her to go, but also a bit happy because she is also happy. Mithrandir and Ada told me."

Calaen blinked as he felt his eyes becoming moist. He did not want to shed any tears yet, especially in front of Legolas, who seemed so calm, despite his age and knowledge of what this day would bring. As he bit down on his lip to hold back tears, Calaen unconsciously tugged hard on the brush, pulling it straight through a knot that had formed whilst Legolas had been asleep.

"Cal!" the young Prince cried, jerking his head forwards.

Calaen blinked once more, though this time in surprise: he had not realised what he had been doing. "Oh, I...I am sorry Greenleaf, I...Look, that is enough now. Pass me your circlet."

Legolas pulled it across the bedside table, and held it behind his back for the other Prince to take. "I think that I am also a little bit glad that today has come. Maybe that sounds horrible."

"Explain," said Calaen quietly, pulling the circlet down over his brother's head.

"I have heard you and Ada and Airëlus talk a lot about today, but you never really included me because I am too small. You say a lot of things that I don't understand," Legolas replied. "I am glad because, at least now I will be able to stop worrying about what will happen."

Calaen sighed, though he nodded reluctantly. "You will find out soon, Greenleaf, very soon."

............................................................................................................

Thranduil paused as he passed his eldest son's bedroom. He had seen Airëlus very little, it seemed, over the past week or so, and he cursed silently as he realised that it should not have been so. Just because the Crown Prince was elder than Legolas and Calaen, it did not mean that he was not as affected by all that had happened.

The King retraced his steps slightly, and knocked gently on the door. "Airëlus, can I come in?"

"Of course," was the reply.

Thranduil pushed open the door, and stepped quietly into the room. The Prince was sitting at his desk, wearing light robes of a sky-blue. His fair hair fell un-braided around his face, and resting in his hands, was a circlet of gold. He turned it over and over in his fingers, and did not look up when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Airëlus," Thranduil said quietly. He paused for a moment, but then lifted his son's chin. They made eye contact for a mere second, before the Prince shook himself free, and stood up to go and stare out of the window.

"I thought...I thought I was strong," Airëlus whispered, "at least, stronger than this. But now, I feel so weak. I feel that if someone was just to touch me, I would crumble, like an old statue. How can I face everyone? Our people?"

"What do you speak of?" Thranduil asked, troubled.

Airëlus turned around, and nodded towards the circlet in his hand. "This. What do our people look for in me? Strength, because I am their Crown Prince, heir to the throne. A King _must_ be strong, Ada, else, what good is he to his country? None at all. I have spent the last week trying to take care of Calaen and Legolas; I have been polite and courteous to those who come to give their condolences; I have even comforted those who weep over the loss of their Queen."

"And yet, you accepted no comfort yourself." Thranduil sighed, and leaned back against his son's desk.

"I did not want any," replied Airëlus. But then he paused, and shook his head bitterly. "No, that is a lie. I _did_ want to be comforted. But I accepted none so that no weakness would be shown on my part. I had to show strength in front of everybody. But now the day has come where I must be most strong, and I cannot do it."

"Airëlus," Thranduil breathed, "you-

"Please, let me finish," the Prince cut in. "Not only do I think I _cannot _be strong, but...I do not wish to be. Not any more. Not even for you, Calaen and Legolas. That is selfish, I know, but-

"But I understand." Thranduil went forwards to stand in front of his son. "Deep down, I was afraid this would happen. You pushed your emotions away, and now they are all catching up with you, too fast, it seems."

Airëlus closed his eyes and nodded, though a few tears escaped from under his lashes. He reached up a hand to swipe them away, but Thranduil caught him by the wrist, and shook his head gently. As some more silvery drops fell, the King wrapped both arms around the Prince, and pulled him close.

"Do not be afraid any more," he whispered. "No-one expects you to be strong today. No-one expected you to be strong this last week. Why should you? Airëlus, showing your emotions is not a display of weakness."

"But I only thought that..." The younger Elf trailed off, and buried his face against his father's shoulder.

"I know, I know," Thranduil soothed. "Showing your emotions and shedding tears is merely the walk down the road of recovery for your heart and soul."

Airëlus looked up, and managed to smile through his tears. "Put like that, it does not sound so bad."

"No, it doesn't." Thranduil pulled back a little, and touched a hand to his son's damp cheek. "Maybe our people want strength from us, but it will be the last thing on their minds today. Besides, I think that maybe they would be a little worried if you were able to remain entirely calm. Take no shame in your grief."

"Thank you. I know now that it will be easier for me to get through this day, now that I have spoken to you," Airëlus said. He glanced down at his hands. "I suppose I must put this on now."

Thranduil smiled, and took the circlet. Placing it on his son's brow, he said softly, "I am proud of you, Airëlus, and your mother was also. Remember that. Know also that if you should _ever_ feel like this again, I am here for you, and I can and will help you."

"Thank you, Ada," the Prince said quietly.

The other Elf nodded and turned to go, but then he paused. "If I were you, I would stop worrying about being a strong King. I have no plans to be leaving any time in the next few millennia, so you have a while to wait yet. Besides, we do not know what the future holds for us."

Airëlus nodded slowly. "That is very true, Ada. _Anything _could happen."

............................................................................................................

October Skye: Cool to see you're back! Yeah, I like Calaen also, so don't worry, you're not alone.

Jedi Gollum: Oh no, poor Elrond got poked!

Kelsey: Well, I don't want to say too much about Calaen's blame at the moment, because it's getting near that point now. I hope this bit with Airëlus was alright for you. To be honest with you, I was actually having a few problems writing him, but your review really helped. If I write a flashback with Findilan and her man, it would definitely do nothing to tarnish her reputation as a good mother and wife, because I don't think of her as anything but that. Anyway, thanks again for the help! I really appreciate it!

kathysidle: Poor you, starting school soon. Don't worry, I start college on Wednesday, so I guess that means no more late nights and lie-ins in the morning! How sad.

Pippin the hobbit-elf: Wow, you go to a very small school also! I think that small schools are nicer than larger ones. I know that if I hadn't gone to the school I did, I would've turned out very differently. Different in a bad way. Yeah, I start college on Wednesday, the day after you start school. Scary!

I don't know if this was a sad chapter or not. Yeah, I guess it was a little. The next chapter is also pretty sad, cos...well, it just is. Anyway, see you all on Tuesday. Bye!


	12. Chapter 12

**Thranduil's POV**

So, here we are. At last. After all the long waiting, the time has finally come. I was surprised at first by how many have turned up, but I don't suppose I should have been. Findilan was greatly loved, and I never realised that her loss will affect not just me and the children.

Her body is lying on a bier, which is decorated with flowers, and although it is daytime – though the black clouds are enough to make me wonder - there are candles all around her. The flames dance and cast shadows on her face, making it look as though her eyes are fluttering or her mouth is twitching. I only hope that Legolas does not get any ideas.

Lady Galadriel is saying a prayer for Findilan right now, her eyes closed. I see the single tear slip from under her lashes, though. Now _that_ is something I never thought I would see in my life. I can feel Airëlus standing beside me, and he is tense, hardly daring to breathe. Calaen is on my other side, and I can feel him exhale deeply, his body trembling against mine.

Legolas is standing in front of me, staring straight ahead. His face is turned away, and he is so small that I cannot even glance sideways to see if there are tears in his eyes. Damn, I want to hold all of my children, and I want to tell them that everything will be alright. Or...maybe part of me just wants to reassure myself of that.

**Airëlus' POV**

I never imagined that this day would actually arrive, and now that it has, I still can't truly believe it. Everything seems so surreal. Part of me wonders if I am merely dreaming all of this, and I think that part of me is _hoping _that I am merely dreaming it. But no, I know that I am not. I have pinched myself enough times, praying that I will wake up. I haven't.

I'm watching the proceedings so intently and carefully, but everything seems to be moving as though in slow motion. As Lady Galadriel chants quietly, I watch her, the movements of her lips. They do not match the words that are flowing through the air.

Standing opposite me, is Lord Elrond and his two sons. I watch them for a moment. One of the twins – I don't know which – shakes his head slightly, for there is hair in his eyes. His brother nudges him to be still, and...I see nothing else. Until I blink.

Now I know why my vision was slighted: the tears which I would previously not let spill, are all fighting to escape. What if I had not spoken to Ada earlier? I am sure that things would be very different for me. He's right. We do not know what the future holds for us. Anything could happen. And I am sure that it will.

**Calaen's POV**

I haven't thought about Legolas' involvement with our mother's death since that day back in the Houses of Mourning when I was overcome with despair. But now that I am looking on her body once again, the feelings are starting to come back, no matter how I try and push them away.

Every time I glance at her, I see her lying in the forest with Legolas at her side, those damned leaves clutched in his fist. And then I want to shout and yell and scream, scream that it is all his fault. No, stop that! Stop that, right now.

This is your mother's day of burial, and all you can think about is placing blame on an innocent child. Why? It is just so that you can try and forget about this grief which is so over-powering. Selfish. No-one must find out about this. But, what if people _did_? What would happen if Ada and Airëlus knew that I blamed my young brother? What would happen if Legolas himself found out? Hearts would be broken, I am sure of it.

But I do not want that. I do not want to think like this again; I do not want to let Legolas become an unknown victim of my uncontrollable accusations; I do not want to feel this pain. It hurts. It hurts so much. But it is not physical, it is emotional. My heart...my heart is hurting. My heart is confused.

**Legolas' POV**

When I first saw Nana's body, I wanted to run up to her, even though I knew she would not know I was there. I wanted to, but I didn't. Someone put a hand on my shoulder though, and held me still for a few minutes. I don't know who it was. Maybe Ada or Airëlus. I think they thought that I might go to Nana.

I didn't know it would be like this, even though I heard people talking about it. I haven't cried either, but nor am I happy. Ecstatic, that's what Cal said earlier. No, I am not ecstatic. No-one looks very happy. In fact, a lot of the other Elves are crying.

I wonder if Ada or Airëlus or Cal are crying. I can't turn around to look at them, because I did that once already, and Ada shook his head. We have been here for a very long time, and I thought that I would feel better about seeing Nana. I don't.

I just want to run forwards and touch her one last time and tell her that I love her; I want to smell her again; I want to feel her hair just once more before she goes. I want all of that so much, and I know that I can't stay still for much longer. As each minute passes, I feel worse. Maybe if I look away it will get better. Yes, I am not going to look at Nana again, because if I do, I know I will do something stupid.

Goodbye Nana.

............................................................................................................

Thranduil let his gaze linger on Queen Findilan's body for a moment longer, before flicking his eyes to the other side of the courtyard, which was where the service was being held. His people stood in silence, dressed in black, and he smiled vaguely as he noted the tears streaming from many eyes. His wife had touched many hearts.

'And one of them was not wanted here,' he thought bitterly. But, deciding that today was not the day to think on that, the King shook himself mentally, and turned his gaze elsewhere. As he locked eyes with Lord Elrond, the Noldor Elf made a subtle downwards gesture, with his dark orbs.

Without changing the expression in his eyes or face, Thranduil tilted his head sideways, questioningly. Again, a nod in the general direction of...Ah, Legolas. Realisation suddenly dawned, and the Sinda Elf was still for a moment. As King, he never showed any public affection towards his children, very much like his own father had done. It had always been that way, no matter how much the tradition was disliked.

'Damn protocol to Mordor and back," thought Thranduil angrily. 'If I want to reassure my children, and make sure that they are well, in front of my people, what of it?'

Nodding his thanks to Elrond, the Elven-king crouched down and put a hand on his youngest son's shoulder, and whispered, "Legolas, look at me."

The Prince turned his head, surprised at being addressed. The swift movement, though, caused silvery tears to spill from his eyes. Blinking, he raised a hand to brush them away before anyone, especially his father, could see. But Thranduil merely pulled Legolas to him, before straightening up once more, the Elfling still in his arms.

"Thank you, Ada," Legolas whispered, only able to hold back to say those two words before the dams burst and the tears fell, like rain from the sky.

Thranduil glanced sideways at Airëlus to make sure he was well, and started at the pale colour of his son's face. But as he followed the Crown Prince's gaze, he realised with a jolt what it was. Lady Galadriel had fallen silent, and four uniformed Elves, soldiers, were stepping forwards to pick up Queen Findilan's bier.

"Ada, they're taking her," Calaen breathed.

"I know, I know," Thranduil said in a low voice. "They must, ion-nin. We all knew this time would come: our last few moments with her."

Calaen's green eyes filled at that, and he was unaware of the looks being thrown his way from the other gathered Elves. "Ada, she will be alone without us, and we will be alone without her."

"Nana can't go where she'll be by herself!" Legolas sobbed into his father's shoulder.

From where he stood at the left hand side of the Royal Family, Gandalf shut his eyes for a moment, before taking a step forwards. He held up a hand to halt the soldiers, and then gently pushed Airëlus and Calaen forwards. He smiled inwardly as he saw Thranduil visibly relax. Obviously it was all too much for him to cope with.

"This is your last chance," the Wizard said to the two young Elves, "to say goodbye to your mother for the final time. Do not let this chance go."

Airëlus rested a hand on Findilan's white cheek, and he shuddered at the coldness of it. He said nothing, choosing instead to keep his thoughts between himself and the Queen. He knew that she would understand. Calaen, though, held one of his mother's hands tightly, and bowed his head as he whispered, "Namarie, Naneth. Im meleth lle."

Standing slightly behind them, Thranduil let his gaze rest on his wife's face. Even in death, she was beautiful, and it suddenly dawned on him that he would never feel her silver hair in his fingers; never feel her lips against his; never hear the beating of her heart. "Namarie, meleth-nin."

Legolas turned his head slightly to look down at his mother. He simply said: "Goodbye, Nana."

............................................................................................................

This was a short chapter, compared to the other ones, I think. Right, I cannot answer any questions on this chapter, because the computer will only let me use it for about five minutes, before it crashes. Luckily, I had this chapter typed up before. But it also means that I can't e-mail the people that I normally do, so, Legolas-gurl88 and kathysidle, I'll try and e-mail you from college, but I just thought I should let you know, so you don't think I'm ignoring you or I've been abducted by aliens.

Anyway, better go else the computer will freak out again.


	13. Chapter 13

It was the day after Findilan's burial, yet still the palace was very much in grieving for their Queen. But then, why should they not be? Calaen and Airelus had been landed with Elladan and Elrohir. Not that they minded, but they would rather just have some time to themselves.

"I don't suppose it is alright if we go and meet your brother, is it?" asked Elladan, after a particularly awkward silence. "We saw him briefly yesterday, but did not meet him."

"Legolas? I see no reason why not," Airelus replied, whilst Calaen let out an inward sigh of relief. "He should be in his own room, though maybe he is with our father."

"If that is the case, we will not bother either of them," said Elrohir.

"No, at least check his room," said Calaen swiftly. He winced at the glare from his elder brother, but addressed the twins once more. "I mean, there is every possibility that he is in his room, so...you would be losing nothing if you went to check there."

Elladan nodded, and as he did so, he opened his mind to allow Elrohir in. Speaking telepathically was a gift that they had been blessed with since they were first able to communicate properly, and it proved to be very useful, espeically in tense situations like the one they were currently in.

_We should leave them, 'Dan. After all, it is only the day after their mother was laid to rest,_ Elrohir thought. _Let us give them some time alone."_

"Thank you, Calaen, we will do that," said Elladan out loud, smiling gently at the two brothers. He motioned to his twin, and they left the room quietly.

"As much as I like them, they can be very trying at times," said Calaen, when the door was shut.

"They were doing nothing. They understand our loss," Airelus replied. "They know when to draw the line."

"Still," muttered Calaen.

The Crown Prince glanced sideways at his brother, and touched a hand to his shoulder. "I understand. You just want to be left alone with your thoughts. There is nothing wrong with that."

"You don't have to go," said Calaen swiftly.

"I was not planning on going anywhere," replied Airelus, smiling gently at the younger Elf. "I am a lot harder to get rid of than you think, Cal."

Legolas sat in the middle of his room, staring down at his toy soldiers, which lay motionless on the ground in front of him. Sighing, he reached out and picked one up. Airelus and Calaen had left him a while back to go to their own rooms; his father had also left because he had to speak with Lord Elrond. So, the Elfling was alone.

"Not really alone," he said quietly, looking down at the soldier in his hand. "You are here and so are your friends, but you won't speak to me. I could say anything, but you won't say anything back."

Legolas was silent for a while, and his eyes were sad as he said to the soldier, "My Ada will go back to being King, so I don't think he will have very much time for me. Airelus won't be here for much longer, because he is going to be joining a patrol. He will become one of you."

The soldier's face remained impassive, but Legolas pressed on. "That only leaves Cal, and he is very sad because our Nana is dead. Did you know that? You should, and you should also be sad because she is gone and she is never coming back. Do you even care?"

As no answer came and tears sprang to his eyes, Legolas threw the soldier across the room, and kicked the others away. He glared at them all for a moment, before his expression softened, and he leaned forwards to pick them up again. As he did, though, there was a knock on his door, and it opened to admit two identical, dark haired Elves.

Legolas looked up, and blinked in surprise. "Oh, there are two of you!"

"Yes, there are two of us, but we are only one person," Elladan smiled. "Does that make sense?"

"No," said Legolas, shaking his head.

"That is because he explained it all wrong," said Elrohir. "We are twins, meaning that although we look the same, we are not the same Elf. His name is Elladan, and I am Elrohir."

Legolas merely nodded, still staring at the two dark haired Elves. He could remember well enough what they were called, but pinning a name to a twin was easier said than done. He searched for something that could identify them, but their clothes were identical, and their hair was the same length and style. There was nothing.

"Do not be surprised though, if you hear some people calling me Elladan," continued one of the twins, obviously Elrohir. "We are often mixed up. Sometimes even by those who know us well."

"Or claim to," Elladan put in.

Elrohir looked down at the baffled Elfling, and smiled, and without saying a word, reached across and pulled out the barette which held his brother's hair back. Elladan blinked as black tresses fell around his face, and he blew some strands away from his eyes. Legolas laughed quietly.

"There, now you can tell us apart," Elrohir said.

The Prince nodded without saying a word, but flushed as he suddenly remembered to be polite. He stood up and bowed to the two older Elves. "I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you my name. I am Legolas."

"Legolas Greenleaf, we know," said Elladan.

"Oh. Have I...have I met you before?" asked Legolas, casting his mind wildly around.

"Well, we saw you a few days after your birth, but you cannot remember back that far," replied Elrohir. "You have grown very much."

Elladan looked down at the young Prince for a moment, before tearing his gaze away. Legolas was definitely the golden haired Elfling who had been in his dream - there was no doubting it. He sighed, though that alerted the attention of his brother and new friend.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked in concern.

"Yes, I am quite fine," replied Elladan. He paused, and knelt beside the Elfling on the ground. "And you? How are you?"

"'Dan," said Elrohir quietly, and he shook his head.

Legolas shrugged, oblivious to the meaningful glances exchanged between the twins. "I am alright. Yesterday was the first time that I have cried in a while. But...can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"Before you came in, I was going to cry," said Legolas quietly. "Not because I was upset about Nana - I was, but that wasn't why I nearly cried. You see, I wanted someone to talk to. But there was no-one."

"You can talk to us if you want," Elrohir offered, kneeling on the ground.

Legolas' face suddenly lit up with the first proper smile which had been seen in days. Pausing for only a moment, he then threw himself forwards and first of all embraced a stunned Elladan, and then a startled Elrohir. The twins looked at each other and laughed simultaneously.

"Oh, Arwen was never like this at your age," Elladan said. "She wouldn't come near us with a ten foot pole."

"You exaggerate slightly," said Elrohir. "But maybe Ada could come to some sort of an arrangement with King Thranduil, and this Elfling could come back to Rivendell with us. For ever."

"Forever is a very long time for a father and son to be apart," said a sudden voice from the doorway. "However...I do loan him out on occaisons. You can by all means borrow him for a while, if you so desire."

The two Noldor Elves sprang to their feet, whilst Legolas darted forwards and into Thranduil's arms. Elrohir's cheeks flushed a bright pink as realisation hit that the Elven-king of Mirkwood had heard all that had been said. Smiling, Elladan nudged his brother forwards.  
  
"Your Highness, we were not actually planning on trying to get Legolas to live with us forever," Elrohir stammered. "We were merely jesting."

"Hmm, so was I," Thranduil nodded. "I would have thought that you two, the renowned jesters of Imladris, would be more than able to notice a jest when it is in front of your eyes."

"We are, but most jests we hear do not come from the renowned King of Mirkwood," Elladan replied.

Elrohir closed his eyes, but Thranduil smiled - all noticed that it was somewhat strained, though. "Renowned? I must find out what stories your father has been telling of me. Let me assure you that very few of them contain an ounce of truth. Speaking of your father, I believe he wishes to see you."

"Oh, thank you for passing on the message," Elrohir said.

"Can I see you again?" Legolas asked hopefully, as the twins went over to the door.

"I see no reason why not," Elladan replied.

"By your leave, of course, Your Highness," Elrohir said hurriedly.

Thranduil smiled and nodded his head. "Of course. Go on, now - do not keep your father waiting." As the dark haired Elves bowed and then swiftly left the room, he looked down at Legolas. "So, you met the twins of Imladris? And, what do you think of them?"

"They are nice and they made me laugh," Legolas said simply.

"Hmm. Now, I have spoken to Lord Elrond and Mithrandir," Thranduil said slowly - he could not voice his thoughts to his youngest son as he could his other two. "I very much think that things cannot remain the same as they have been this past week in our family, and they agree."

"What do you mean?"

"We have already lost one whom we love, and that hurt very much, didn't it?" the King said gently.

"It still does."

"Yes, and I think that it will for a very long time yet," Thranduil said. "And what do you think will make us feel better?"

"Nana coming back," the child said quietly.

The Elf looked down, and sighed deeply. "Legolas, you know that will not happen. But although your mother is not here, I am. So are your brothers. And we must stay together as a family, even though times are hard. What do you think would happen if Calaen, for example, felt maybe....shunned by us?"

"He would feel very upset, and would not feel better," Legolas replied.

"Yes, and the same applies to you and Airelus," Thranduil nodded, "so-

"And you."

"Ye-es. So, we must not let that happen. Now, I left you alone earlier, and I am sorry for that, but now I suggest we go to find your brothers," Thranduil said, moving over to the door.

Legolas nodded, and wrapped one arm around his father's neck. "Elladan and Elrohir said that I can talk to them if I want to, Ada, about Nana. I would like that - I like talking about her. Not about....that day, but before that."

"Yes, because it means you can think about all the memories you have of her," Thranduil said quietly. "You can think about all of the good times."

"I...I miss her a lot," Legolas whispered. "I know that she can't come back, but I want to see her again."

The King sighed, but nodded slowly. "I know you do. I would love dearly to see her again, as would your brothers, but we can only see her now in our hearts and in our minds."

"That is better than not seeing her at all," Legolas said.

Thranduil paused as they reached Airelus' room. He set the Elfling on the floor, and looked down at him, contemplating his words. "Yes. Yes, I suppose you are right."

Legolas nodded and moved aside as the Elven-king pushed open the door, and went into his brother's room. The two elder Princes were sat on the bed, though they both stood respectfully at the arrival of their father. Thranduil, however, merely shook his head and waved them back down.

"Sit," he said gently. He was silent for a moment as he watched Legolas go over to the bed and settle himself between his brothers.

Calaen glanced down as a small hand was placed upon his arm, and as his emerald eyes met silver ones, he blinked, and a strange expression crossed his face. It was almost as though he was surprised to see Legolas there. However, he shook himself mentally, and forced a smile - though, it was a very strained one - onto his face.

"I understand that you are of the age now where you wish to be training with your friends, or...well, doing whatever it is that you do," Thranduil was saying to Airelus. "As it is, you are joining a patrol next month, so you will be spending less time here with us."

"You won't leave us, will you?" asked Legolas quietly. "You won't leave us forever? I don't want that to happen again. You will be coming back, won't you?"

Airelus winced at his brother's words. "Of course I will," he said gently, pulling the Elfling onto his lap.

Calaen let out a deep sigh of relief as Legolas was moved away from him. It was strange, having his younger brother so close to him, for his whole body went tense, and he felt horribly uncomfortable. But as soon as the contact was broken, the dark haired Elf could feel immediately relaxed.

"Are you well?" Thranduil asked in concern, moving forwards to touch a hand to his son's shoulder.

"What? Oh, yes, I...I was merely glad of Airelus' words," Calaen said. "I am fine, quite fine."

The Crown Prince smiled at his brother, and his eyes were soft. "You have no need to worry. I have told you enough times that I will still return home here. Besides, as it is my first time in a patrol, I will not be going very far at all. I probably won't be doing very much, anyway."

"You will do a bit of scouting, and of course you will continue with training," said Thranduil. "But I suspect that most of the time, you will be polishing swords for the older soliders, and fletching arrows. Your status will mean very little, when you are amongst warriors."

Airelus made a face, smiling inwardly as Legolas giggled. He tickled the Elfling under the chin, and glanced across at Thranduil. "You came in here to speak of more than just that."

The Elven-king nodded, and leant back against his eldest son's desk. "Yes. I got sidetracked."

"Sorry,"said Legolas quietly.

"No matter," Thranduil shook his head. "And you, Calaen, you spend most of your time in the library or at the training grounds, and more often than not, you are on your own. I understand why you prefer that. Solitude gives you a chance to think, does it not?"

"Yes," the Prince replied.

"However, solitude also can be un-healthy," Thranduil continued, "especially after losing someone close to you."

Calaen sighed as realisation dawned. "You are speaking of Naneth. You think that when we are alone, we will dwell too much on all that has happened, and in doing so, become withdrawn and reclusive, and-

"Quiet, quiet," Thranduil cut in, holding up a hand. He was silent for a moment, before sighing deeply. "There is some truth to what you say. However, it is very little."

"What do you mean?" asked Calaen.

"Maybe I explained myself in the wrong way," Thranduil said quietly. He crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his eyes to the floor. He wanted so much to be strong for his children, and he wanted them to be certain of the fact that he would be there for them. Things did not seem to be going too well.

Over on the bed, Legolas was gazing up at his father's face, and he suddenly felt a great pang of sympathy for Thranduil. He slid from his position on Airelus' lap, onto the ground, and jumped onto the chair next to the desk which the King was leaning against.

"Ada," he said quietly.

Thranduil glanced down, and pulled the child close to his side. "When you were born, Airelus, I swore that I would be a good father to you, and any others who your mother and I would be blessed with."

"But you _are_ a good father," the Crown Prince said swiftly. "The very best."

"We could ask for no better," Calaen added, his voice low.

"I'm glad that you're my Ada," Legolas put in.

Thranduil shook his head, and if possible, looked more frustrated than he had done before. "I do not look for reassurance, especially from you three. Will you please just be silent until I have finished speaking?"

"Sorry," the three Princes said.

The Elven-king jerked his arm away from where it rested around his youngest son's waist, and moved over to the centre of the room. "Please..."

"Sorry," Legolas said quietly.

Clenching his fists inside the sleeves of his robes, Thranduil ignored the apology and picked up where he had left off a minute ago. "As I was saying...I swore to be a good father. And, although I have tried hard to keep my word, more often than not, the only time I have for you three is in the evenings, for I always have work in the day."

"That is through no fault of your own," Airelus said sharply.

"But, even when I finish my work, I spare only a little time for you. I claim to be too weary to do anything else, and I should not do that," Thranduil sighed. "You are my children, and it is wrong of me to deal with you like I would an issue of the realm."

"We know why you do," Legolas said.

Airelus shot his brother a warning glance. "He did not mean that you _do_ deal with us in such a way. He merely means that we understand the amount of work you do, and we know how hard it is."

"You should not have to," Thranduil said quietly. He paused for a moment, and his eyes glinted. "I am the King of this realm, and I cannot abandon my country or my people. But nor can I push my sons away. I swear by all the Valar that from this day forth, I will keep the promise that I made, and I _will_ be a good father. I _will_."

There was silence in the room, and Legolas stared at the Elven-king in wonder, before dropping his gaze to the floor. Calaen's face remained impassive, though his eyes glistened slightly. It was Airelus who ventured forth and touched a gentle hand to Thranduil's shoulder.

"Ada, I know why you speak in such a way," he said in a low voice. "You are as distraught by Naneth's passing as we are, and in your grief, you fear that you will be unable to take on the task of acting as both parents." He let the sentence hang for a moment, before pressing on. "We are not oblivious to what is going on in our forest. Even Legolas knows, though you would have it otherwise. There is great pressure on you to keep the evil of Dol Guldor at bay, and you cannot abandon your people - as you said - even at this time of grief. Lord Elrond and Mithrandir will be staying for a few months to help us through this, and maybe you fear that when they leave, you will be unable to carry on being strong, without their aide. But you _are_ strong. I know that. And I have faith in you, because I admire, respect, and above all, love you. You will not fail."

Thranduil blinked in surprise, trying to force away the lump in his throat. He wondered vaguely if he was as easy to read as a book. Yes, Airelus had just reeled off all that troubled the Elven-king, without even pausing to consider. Thranduil was gateful, though, that his other problems - the ones that could cause further damage to his family - had not been noticed by his ever observant son.

"Even strong Kings have moments of despair sometimes," Airelus said quietly.

"But not all Kings are lucky enough to be blessed with amazing children who can rescue them from despair," Thranduil replied. He smiled gently, and put one arm around Airelus' shoulders.

Over on the bed, Calaen was watching in silence. Trust the Crown Prince to come out with a touching speech like that. Airelus was the one who was able to speak in such a heartfelt way, whilst Legolas was the one who could charm anyone. Calaen was..._what am I? What do I do to help?_

He looked up, and watched as Legolas was lifted into Thranduil's arms, and although he tried to fight it away, Calaen could not help but feel slightly...resentful, even jealous. But why should he? Why should he be jealous of the small child who he loved so much? It did not make sense. Nothing did at that moment in time.

He hissed in frustration, and curled his fists around the covers of the bed, not realising that he had attracted the attention of the others. Thranduil came over to sit beside him, and wordlessly slipped an arm around his shoulders. Legolas remained in his other arm, though, and as Calaen locked eyes with his younger brother, tears filled them. Tears of despair; tears of helplessness; tears of confusion.

I have to make so many apologies for not updating. My computer is infested with like, a zillion viruses. It's been sent away to be repaired, but God knows when it will be back. So, I'm using my grandmother's computer, and the only reason I haven't tped this up sooner, is because I can't get down here in the week. I really appreciate your patience, and again, I am so sorry for not updating sooner. Hopefully, it won't be long til the next chapter is up. Again, I can't leave any reviewer responses, as I really have no time right now. Hopefully I'll be back soon.


	14. Chapter 14

Legolas sighed inwardly as walked down the long corridor. How could two weeks have gone by so slowly? It didn't feel like two weeks – it felt like a lot, lot longer. The days had been hard at first, to get through, but Elladan and Elrohir helped him greatly. The nights were different, though, for there were no twins around when he was in bed, dreaming.

'I wish I could make the nights go away,' the Prince thought miserably. 'I don't like seeing Nana falling again – it makes me cry when I wake up.'

Although his mother never left his thoughts, Legolas wasn't always sad. During the daytime, especially with Airëlus and the twins, he could feel at least a little happier. Calaen, though...was a different matter. He had gone very quiet, and was often found to be on his own. When Legolas tried to spend time with him, excuses were always made.

'I don't mind,' the child reflected. 'Mithrandir said it his way of getting better, so that's alright.'

Caught up in his thoughts, Legolas did not bother knocking as he pushed open the door to his father's study. "Ada, do you know where Elladan and El..." He trailed off and blushed, as he realised that the King was not alone. "Oh! Good morning Mithrandir, Lord Elrond."

"Please, feel free to walk straight in," Thranduil said dryly. He smiled though, when his son coloured even more. "What was it you wanted?"

"I'm sorry for not asking permission to come in here," Legolas replied, "but, do you know where Elladan and Elrohir are?"

"I am sorry, they have gone out riding with your brothers," Elrond said. "I am sure they will be back soon."

Legolas unconsciously pouted – he had dreamt of Findilan again in the night. Every other time he had those dreams, he would tell the twins what had happened, and they could always make him feel better. But until he had spoken to them, a shadow would always hang over him.

"They didn't tell me they would be going," he said miserably.

"That is because you would want to go with them, but you are too young yet, to go out riding without any adult protection," Gandalf replied. "You are better off here."

Legolas nodded. "Oh, I understand that. I can ride, and I'm getting better at it, aren't I? You said that I'm very good."

Thranduil looked down as he realised that he was the one being addressed. "What? Oh, yes. Yes, you _are_ very good."

The child smiled under the praise as he turned back to the Wizard and other Elf. "But I'm only allowed to go out riding in the forest if Ada and Nana are with me, because..." He trailed off suddenly.

"What did you say?" Thranduil demanded, sounding harsher than he meant.

"I didn't mean to, I forgot," Legolas breathed. Tears filled his eyes. "No! No, I didn't forget, Ada, I couldn't forget her. I'm sorry!"

The King shook his head and gently lifted the boy into his arms, whilst Elrond and Gandalf watched in silent sympathy. Today was just...one of those days, it seemed. He himself had woken that morning, wishing that he could stay alone all day, and not have to face anyone.

'Life must go on,' Thranduil thought bitterly, absent-mindedly stroking Legolas' hair. 'It is just that some days are harder than others. Today is not the first time I have felt like this. I doubt it will be the last.'

"I didn't mean to," Legolas whispered into his father's chest. "I didn't."

At a glance from Gandalf, Elrond stepped forward and gently took the Prince into his own arms. "What say you and I go to find some food? You have not yet breakfasted, have you?"

"Not hungry," Legolas muttered. "Can I stay here?"

Elrond arched an eyebrow. "I heard you wanted to be a warrior, and fight in battles."

"Yes."

"Well, to be a warrior you must be strong. And to be strong, you must eat good meals," Elrond continued. "It makes sense, does it not?"

"Alright."

Thranduil nodded his thanks to the other Elf as he departed the room, taking Legolas with him. Then he turned to Gandalf. "You planned that."

"Yes, whilst the child was crying into your shoulder," the Wizard replied calmly, though his eyes were suddenly piercing. "He did not mean to say what he did, Thranduil. It is easy enough for the tongue to slip, or the words to flow before it is possible to stop them. It has only been a few weeks - for one to 'forget', as he put it, is quite common."

"I was not angry with him, and nor did I mean to sound so sharp when I spoke," Thranduil said uncomfortably. "I was merely startled. I did not expect him to come out with something like that, trivial though it may seem."

Gandalf nodded, and absent-mindedly lit his pipe. "Yes, I motioned to Elrond to take Legolas, because I wish to know something. What troubles you?"

"What do you...? I don't..." Thranduil waved a hand irritably as smoke drifted his way. "Nothing is troubling me, Mithrandir, but I thank you for your concern."

"You have been edgy all morning. Do not think I haven't noticed. If someone should disturb your thoughts, you snap at them," Gandalf said sternly. "You have not eaten, and whenever I glance over at you, your eyes are fixed always on the walls."

"Oh, I did not realise that looking at my own walls was a crime," Thranduil replied.

"Do not be petulant, you are no child," Gandalf said. He sighed, and his expression softened. "I am your friend, and I am your guide through this hard time. Please, will you not share your troubles?"

Thranduil lowered his eyes. "I...I had a dream last night," he confessed eventually.

"Of what?"

"The day that Findilan passed on," the King sighed. "You do not need to know all of the details – in truth, I do not wish to re-live that day in its entirety. Anyway, I lost my temper at Legolas, for something trivial. He was very distressed, and I knew that. I should have apologised for causing him such sadness, but at the time, I could only speak tauntingly to him, and mock him. He ran away."

Gandalf involuntarily winced at the look of pain on Thranduil's face. "Go on."

"Findilan was very angry with me, and of course, she had every right to be. She said..." The Elf bit on his lip, and continued quietly, "'your temper and sarcasm will be the death of someone one of these days.'"

The Wizard winced again as realisation hit. "You do not think that...do you? Oh, you must not blame yourself."

"I don't," Thranduil said quickly. "But, the dream made me realise that if I had not lost my temper, then Legolas would not have run off, and Findilan would not have followed him. Mithrandir, it is nothing to worry about. It was merely a painful realisation."

"So I imagine," Gandalf murmured. Sighing, he puffed again on his pipe, not noticing as Thranduil scowled at the rising smoke. "Blame is needless at the best of times, but especially at a time like this. What happened was no-one's fault, and it is wrong to think otherwise."

"I know," Thranduil nodded. "But, dreams are uncontrollable." He paused, and glanced over at the Wizard. "I have not yet thanked you."

"Whatever for?" Gandalf asked, as though surprised.

Thranduil shrugged lightly. "For being here. I have much to thank you for, as I know that there are times when my grief has threatened to overwhelm me, and there are times when I feel so helpless. I owe much to both you and Elrond."

The Wizard looked at the Elf and shook his head. "No. You owe much to your children. You owe them your love and your time, because they cannot pull through without that. Just remember that."

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Lord Elrond shook his head as one of the servants came forward and asked if he wanted anything. "No, thank you, but Prince Legolas will have some food."

The Prince in question was sitting at the table, staring in silence at the ground. He had not spoken very much since leaving his father's study – hardly at all, in fact. When Elrond came and sat beside him, he did not even look up, choosing to keep his eyes fixed firmly downwards.

"You seem to have become very friendly with my sons," the Elf said after a while.

"I like them," Legolas nodded. He did not elaborate.

Elrond sighed, and reached out to put a hand on the child's shoulder. "You are very sad, I can see that. The reason they did not tell you they were going riding, is because they knew that you would not be able to go with them, and they did not want to leave behind a very upset Elfling. They thought they would be back before you awoke."

"I don't care about that!" Legolas snapped. He glared up at the startled Elf-lord for a moment, and then buried his face in his hands. "I don't care that they didn't tell me they were going. I just want to talk to them."

"I understand that," Elrond said gently. "But, has it not crossed your mind that maybe your brothers wish to spend some time with then? I know that Elladan and Elrohir enjoy being with you, but they are also friendly with Calaen and Airëlus."

"I didn't mean to be selfish," Legolas muttered.

With that, the child got up and went to the doors at the end of the room. He walked calmly, with his head held high, but Elrond's sharp gaze did not miss the way that his shoulders shook as he obviously tried to hold back tears.

"It is a grievous thing, that you should go through this at such a young age," the Elf said quietly. "But, there will be more to come. Pain is something that comes with life, and you will find that out one day."

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The four young Elves rode in silence through the forest, watching for any sign of movement in the trees. Elladan rode with Airëlus at the front, Elrohir was in the middle, and Calaen was at the back. His eyes were focused on the ground moving beneath him, his trust put in his horse to follow the others, and not stumble.

He had not wanted to come out today, but had been quick to accept the offer when Airëlus had commented that maybe it was better, him not going – he could stay with Legolas, instead. A few odd looks had been sent his way at the quick change of heart, but he ignored them.

"I think that maybe we should return home," Airëlus said, reigning in his horse.

"And, where is home?" Elladan asked.

"Excuse me?"

"We have no idea where your home is. Well, we're fine when there's a straight path to follow, but we have gone off the path," Elrohir explained. "Both of us are absolutely useless when it come to directions."

"Geographically challenged," Elladan nodded.

Airëlus smiled, though it quickly faded when his brother rode past them, through the trees. "Cal, what are you doing?"

"I thought you said we should return home," the other Prince called back, his voice flat.

The twins glanced at each other, and then across at Airëlus. There was a distant look in his eyes, as though he was trying hard to remember something. Elrohir was about to ask him if everything was well, but Elladan silenced him with a shake of his head.

"Oh no!" Airëlus suddenly gasped, as realisation hit. "Come, we must stop him!"

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Calaen pulled his horse to a halt as his gaze fell on the tree standing before him. It was not just any tree; it was _the _tree, the tree his mother had fallen from. This was the first time he had even ventured near the clearing since Findilan had died.

"Why?" he breathed. "Why did I come here?"

This wasn't the way back to the palace. He had known that even as he had ridden through the trees, but he had been powerless to stop himself, to turn the horse around, and go in the other direction. It was as though he had been drawn there, by some invisible force.

Calaen jumped lightly to the ground, and walked, as though in a trance, to the base of the tree. "Why did you have to fall, Naneth?" he whispered, dropping to his knees and pulling his fingers through the leaves littered on the floor. "Why did you climb the tree? And why aren't you here now? It's not fair. It's not fair!"

He leaped to his feet again, and with a yell of rage, pulled out his knife and raised his arm. He wanted to slash the mocking, light brown face of the tree in front of him; he wanted to punish it for taking his mother away. But as he brought the blade down, a hand from behind him wrapped around his wrist.

"Cal, put it down," Airëlus said gently.

The dark haired Elf pulled himself free, but did not turn. "I wish to be alone."

"No, I will not leave you alone whilst you are in this state," Airëlus replied. "Come back with me. Being in this place is only making you feel worse."

"I am fine," the younger Prince choked out. But the tears in his eyes betrayed him.

"Don't do this to yourself," Airëlus breathed. "By standing here and looking once more at this place, you are only torturing yourself further. Calaen, do not punish yourself."

Calaen let his knife fall to the ground, and then he himself sank down also. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and buried his face in the crook of his arm. So many feelings flashed through him. He was angry, helpless, confused. All the feelings that he had felt two weeks ago, were multiplied threefold. He didn't know what to do.

"It's alright," Airëlus whispered, kneeling on the ground and pulling his brother to him.

"How can it be?" Calaen exhaled deeply, and closed his eyes.

The Crown Prince was silent as he ran his fingers through the other Elf's dark hair. "There is little I can say to make you feel better. But please, you must hold onto hope. If you have no hope, what do you have?"

"I want her back," Calaen breathed, burying his face into his brother's strong chest. "I would give anything to see her, even if it was for just one minute."

"I know, I know that you would," Airëlus said gently. "As would I, and so would Ada and Legolas. But we cannot have her back, no matter how much we wish for it."

At the mention of his younger brother's name, Calaen tensed. Much had changed between himself and Legolas, and he knew that it was all because of the horrific thoughts of blame which had plagued his mind. Were they still? He couldn't even properly answer his own questions.

Airëlus sat back on his heels, but did not remove his hands from his brother's shoulders. "Please, dry your tears. It saddens me to see you like this."

"I'm sorry," Calaen shook his head. "I just...miss her."

"Do not apologise for showing your grief," Airëlus replied. "Grief serves to ease the pain of the heart."

The younger Elf nodded, and pulled a hand across his eyes. "Where are Elladan and Elrohir?"

Airëlus noticed the swift change of subject, but decided not to comment on it. "They are waiting through the trees. They thought it best that only I came after you."

"I suppose we should go back to them," Calaen smiled weakly. "What was it they called themselves? Geographically challenged. I'm sure it is within their abilities to get lost without even moving."

Airëlus breathed an inward sigh of relief as his brother stood up once more. He was glad to see the younger Elf laugh again, even though his eyes were sad and his smile strained. But, the Crown Prince was unaware of just how deep Calaen's painful turmoil went.

............................................................................................................

Again, I am really sorry about the delay. Luckily, my computer is up and running again, so updates will be every other day, like they used to be. Thanks so much for being patient with my very slow computer (whose name, by the way, is James). He's been quite ill recently, so we can't blame him. I have a cold right now, so I sympathise with him. Anyway, I need to go and sleep, so I'll see you on Friday.


	15. Chapter 15

That night, dinner was a somber affair. Legolas spoke only briefly with the twins, and they were both convinced he was angry at them for leaving – which he wasn't. Lord Elrond had not mentioned the child's outburst earlier on in the day. Airëlus kept darting questioning sideways glances at Calaen, who would occasionally nod his head, in reassurance, it seemed. Thranduil just sat in silence, wondering what had taken place between his two elder sons.

Eventually, he felt as though he had to break the silence. "So, how did your ride go?"

"It was...good to be outside," Airëlus replied, stopping himself just in time from adding 'and under the trees again' to the end of the sentence.

"And, you encountered no problems with spiders?" Thranduil enquired?

"Must we speak of those at the table?" Gandalf sighed.

Airëlus smiled. "There was nothing, Ada. We did not go particularly far. And anyway, if we _had_ gotten into trouble, we would have told you."

Thranduil nodded, and glanced over at his other son. "And you, Calaen? Was everything alright?"

"It was fine," the Prince said in a low voice.

Elladan listened to the deafening silence for only a few seconds, before saying, "Anyway, if we had come across any spiders, 'Ro and I would have been no good. We don't particularly like them. Why do they need eight legs? We can manage just fine on two."

"You are so inconsiderate," Elrohir said, as Gandalf had to suppress a shudder.

Elladan grinned, whilst Lord Elrond shook his head. Airëlus laughed quietly, and even Calaen managed a faint smile. Thranduil sighed inwardly as Legolas made no sign of having even heard the comment. His face remained impassive, and he kept his eyes lowered on the untouched food in front of him.

"Legolas once claimed to have housed a baby spider in his room," the King commented, wanting to elicit some sort of response from his son.

Gandalf, hoping for the same thing, kept up his show of disgust. "A baby spider! Well now, whatever would you want one of those for? It is a bit of an odd pet to have, if you ask me."

"There wasn't a spider," Legolas said flatly.

"Oh, I remember," Thranduil nodded. "You moved the baby spider into Airëlus' room, to make space for the baby Orc."

"You did what?" Airëlus exclaimed, feigning shock. "If I wake one night to find an eight-legged, hairy beast towering over me, I'll be sure to send it straight back to you."

"There wasn't a spider!" Legolas snapped.

Stunned silence fell. The child turned his face away, and gazed down at the floor. He hadn't meant to speak like that. But, darkness was falling. Within a few hours, he would be in bed, and the dreams would come again, just like they did every night. That frightened him, and the fact that he had to be made upset all the time, made him angry, too.

"Legolas, eat your food," Thranduil said gently, wanting only to break the silence.

"No!"

"Legolas!" This time, Airëlus really was shocked.

Lord Elrond winced in sympathy for the Elfling. "Do you remember what I told you earlier, about warriors needing to keep up their strength by eating?"

"I don't care," Legolas retorted.

Thranduil leaned forward, and spoke quietly. "You may leave the room when that food is out of sight, but not before."

Legolas hesitated, and his child's mind worked furiously, torn between two choices. If he couldn't leave until he ate the food, he would sit there all night, not touching it. But then there was the other choice. If he went for that one, it would make him feel better. He sat in silence for a moment, debating. Eventually, defiance won, and he went for the second choice.

No-one expected him to do what he did. He grabbed his plate, held it for a few seconds, and then dropped it onto the floor. Exclamations and gasps ran through the company. Gandalf's eyes flickered in surprise, but he swiftly masked his face again. Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other uneasily, whilst Calaen and Airëlus just stared at their brother in shock.

"There. It's out of sight," Legolas said quietly.

Thranduil was the first to recover. He pushed his chair back, motioned calmly for his son to leave the room, and then turned to the others. "Will you excuse us for a few minutes?"

When the King was gone, Airëlus slammed his goblet of wine down on the table, and made to go after them. "I will be back in a moment." His voice was slightly unsteady.

Gandalf shook his head as servants rushed forward to begin clearing up the mess on the floor. "No, sit down. Leave them to it."

"Are you mad?" Airëlus hissed, forgetting who he was talking to.

"Not yet, no," Gandalf replied calmly. "Ask me again in a few years, and maybe I will give you a different answer."

The Crown Prince sat down again, and leaned across the table. "Mithrandir, I would much prefer it if my father did not speak to Legolas whilst angry."

"Why-ever not?" asked Gandalf.

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time he lost his temper?" Airëlus demanded.

"Of course not, but-

"That was different," Calaen suddenly cut in. "Do you not think that maybe Legolas deserved what he got? Was Ada's anger not justified? He had done wrong, Airëlus, and if he was not disciplined, how would he learn that his deed had been incorrect?"

"There were other ways to make him realize," the elder Elf said coolly.

As Airëlus' flashing blue eyes met his own green ones, Calaen flinched inwardly. He hadn't meant to speak his thoughts. What had come over him? He knew he was wrong, anyway, and of course he had known that saying this would cause problems. The dark haired Elf bit down on his lip. Had Legolas deserved it? Had Thranduil been correct to do what he had? But surely-

"I think," Gandalf said gently, "that this conversation would be better held away from the dining hall."

Airëlus glared at his now silent brother for a moment longer, and then flicked his gaze back to the Wizard. "Surely it will do no harm if I go after them?"

"That is where you are wrong. It will do more harm than you know," Gandalf replied. "Going after them will only serve to show your father that you have no faith in him, and that when he swore never to raise his hand to Legolas, you did not believe his words. That would hurt him very much."

"But...."

"Go after them if you wish," Gandalf said. "But, if I thought there was any cause for concern, I would not have stopped you. This is a test for your father – can he overcome his temper, or will he let it defeat him?"

As soon as they were away from the dining hall, Thranduil stopped and looked down at Legolas. The boy immediately lowered his eyes, and began scuffing his toes along the floor. The King crouched down and put both hands on his son's shoulders, determined not to let himself get too angry.

"Would you care to explain why you did that?" he asked coolly. When no answer came, he shook the child briefly. "Legolas!"

"It was wrong of me," the Prince muttered.

"Oh, I am so glad you acknowledge that," Thranduil replied, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "But, if you knew that it was wrong, why did you do it?"

Legolas was silent as his mind searched for an answer. He felt angry at himself as realization hit. "I was upset, Ada, and I wanted to do something that would make everyone else feel like that, and would make me feel better. I'm very selfish."

"I don't know if your actions made you feel better, but they certainly did not upset anyone. Anger, shock and disappointment may have been some of the feelings felt, but definitely not sadness," Thranduil said. He paused, and looked into the child's eyes. "Why were you so upset?"

"Miss Nana," Legolas muttered.

"Grief can make us do some very silly things," Thranduil nodded in understanding. "Alright, we will not mention tonight's incident again. But you must know that if you do something wrong, there will be consequences for it. Remember that, the next time you decide to feed your meal to the floor."

Legolas smiled weakly as he climbed into his father's arms. "At least it didn't go to waste."

"That is one good thing," Thranduil agreed.

"Where are we going?" Legolas asked, as the King began walking up the corridor.

"I know it is early, but sleep will do you good. People usually get bad-tempered or upset if they are suffering from tiredness," Thranduil replied. He glanced down at his son. "Have you been sleeping well lately?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Thranduil nodded, and fell silent as they reached Legolas' room. He pushed open the door, and set the boy down. "Go on, get changed. When you are finished, bring me your hairbrush."

Legolas quickly did as he was told, and when he was seated beside his father on the bed to have his braid taken out, he thought of something. "Ada, you said that anger was one of the feelings that was felt when I dropped my food. Did I make you angry?"

"I was shocked at first, but then I was more...disappointed than angry," Thranduil replied.

Legolas winced, wishing it were the other way around. He would choose anger over disappointment any day. "I make you angry a lot, though, don't I?"

"No more than your brothers did at your age," the King said, pulling the brush through his son's hair. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," Legolas replied. "When you were an Elfling, did you get into lots of trouble and make your Ada angry?"

"I most certainly did not," Thranduil said, with great dignity.

"You must've done."

"Why is that?"

"Because all Elflings do."

"Well, I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"It's time for bed, Legolas."

"Alright, but you still got into lots of trouble, like me."

Thranduil rolled his eyes, and pulled the covers back to let the child crawl into bed. "Think what you wish, then."

Legolas nodded. "I will."

"Alright." Thranduil smiled down at his son as he put out the lamp. "Sleep well, Greenleaf."

The Prince sat up with a sudden start. "Ada, wait!"

"What is it?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Legolas lowered his eyes, and began fiddling with his hair. "Why...why do we dream?"

"That is a strange question," Thranduil mused. His thoughts flitted back to the dream he had had the previous night, but he quickly pushed it away. "Dreams can come for a number of reasons. They are quite often focused on our thoughts and emotions, and it is not un-common for them to be connected to some event that has taken place in our lives. Some believe dreams to be symbolic of thoughts buried in our minds."

"Do dreams mean anything?"

"It depends," Thranduil said slowly. "I don't think that they do, because dreaming takes over when our active and awake mind sleeps. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Legolas replied.

"But then, you could interpret them in many different ways. For example, I had a dream once, and I thought it meant something." Thranduil smiled bitterly. "I thought it meant something very horrible, but then I realized that it was only a dream – nothing more, nothing less."

"What did you dream of?" Legolas asked curiously.

Thranduil shook his head. "Nothing for you to worry about. Sleep now."

"Goodnight, Ada," the child said quietly.

The King smiled, and leaned down to kiss his son. But worry was eating away inside of him – there must have been some reason for Legolas asking such a question. But, he would not pursue the matter, not tonight. Maybe he should have, though. More dreams would come to the young Prince that night. More tears would spill from his eyes as more memories flew back to haunt him.

Ok, I don't really have that much to say, except its nearly midnight, which isn't that late, I know, but I'm ill, I've spent a week at college, I went to a party mid-week (which maybe wasn't such a great idea as it ended in the early hours) so as you can guess I'm pretty tired. Anyway, see you on Sunday!


	16. Chapter 16

Later that evening, Calaen was in his room trying to read, when there was a knock on the door. He closed his book and dropped it to the ground as he called out, "who is it?"

"Me. Are you busy?"

"No, come in."

The door was pushed open, and Airëlus entered the room, an odd look on his face. It seemed as though didn't quite know how to feel after his dispute with his brother earlier that evening. Sitting down in one of the chairs, he fixed his blue eyes on the other Elf, and was about to speak, but Calaen beat him to it.

"I was about to come and see you."

"Were you really?"

"No, but I was thinking about it," Calaen replied. "I feel awful about all that I said, Airëlus. Of course Legolas did not deserve what he got."

The Crown Prince blinked in surprise. "But if you did not mean it, why did you...?"

"I don't know!" Frustration flitted across Calaen's face. "I don't know; I just...did."

"But there must have been a reason," Airëlus pressed. "Why would you have said it if there wasn't?"

Calaen turned his head away, letting a black sheet of hair fall down to hide the pained expression on his face, and the tears of anger and confusion in his eyes. Legolas has done nothing! Why should you think such things? His mind was screaming with unanswered questions and muddled thoughts.

"Why will you not speak to me?" Airëlus' voice was gentle now. "Cal, has Legolas done something?"

"That's just it!" Calaen suddenly exploded, snapping his head around so he could face his brother. "He has done nothing, nothing at all. Why am I so angry with him?"

"I didn't know that you were," Airëlus said in surprise. "What could he have done?"

The dark haired Elf shook his head violently. "It is because of what happened earlier. I got so worked up when I saw that damned tree, you know that. It was still in my mind, and I just wanted to...take my anger out on someone. It just happened to be Legolas."

Even as he said the words, Calaen knew that they were not true. He had pushed the tree and the clearing from his mind. There was no reason for Legolas to be a victim of his anger, yet the unsuspecting child was. There was nothing he could do to stop his feelings and thoughts. They were uncontrollable. It was as though he were viewing the world from the eyes of someone else, a different person, not himself.

"There's more to it than that," Airëlus said sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"You are not telling me everything," the Crown Prince replied. "Either that, or you have no idea of what is going on in your own mind."

Calaen snapped his eyes up, and they flashed furiously. "Don't you dare accuse me of that! I know what goes on in my head, and I don't need you thinking otherwise. Now, if you have said all that you need to, will you leave?"

"I...I'm sorry, I did not mean for it to come out like that," Airëlus sighed. "I sounded harsh, but that was not intended. Really, I'm sorry."

"Alright." Calaen nodded once. "I know you didn't mean it."

Airëlus stood up as his brother fell silent. "I will go. But, you do know that you can talk to me about _anything_? I would hate for you to think that you couldn't. I will listen to whatever you have to say, Cal. If you do wish to speak, please, come to me."

With that, the Crown Prince left, hoping his words had been understood. They hadn't. They hadn't even been heard. Calaen had shut out all else, only able to think of what Airëlus had said before – 'you have no idea of what is going on in your own head'. How true. How very true.

With a yell of rage, he pulled his arm back, only to fling his fist into the wall. Blood swiftly came to the surface of his pale skin, and he stared down at it through eyes which were glistening silver.

"You are right, Airëlus," he whispered. "If only you knew how right you were."

............................................................................................................

"I shouldn't bother if I were you," Elladan said, putting a restraining hand on his brother's arm. "He's probably asleep by now."

"He may be, but I just want to look, to make sure," Elrohir replied. "He seemed very upset that we went riding without telling him. Besides, we have barely seen him today."

"Hurry up, then," Elladan sighed.

Elrohir pushed open the door to Legolas' room, and stepped inside. "Oh."

"What did I tell you?" Elladan whispered, moving forwards to stand with his brother. "He is asleep. Now, we should leave, otherwise he will wake."

"Yes, you were right, I was wrong," Elrohir muttered. He turned to go, but stopped as Legolas cried out in his sleep. "What's wrong with him?"

The other twin went and stood beside the bed, concerned. "He is having a dream, but...Valar! His eyes are shut! Elrohir, come and look at this! Should we get someone?"

"Now you know how I felt that time when you slept with your eyes shut," was the reply. "I think we should wake him."

Legolas cried out again, and he tossed his head from side to side. Sweat dampened his brow, and tears leaked out from under his lashes. As he thrashed wildly, the bed covers twisted themselves around his small body. Elrohir looked to Elladan in alarm, and gestured helplessly to the dreaming child.

"Wake him!" he hissed.

The other twin sat on the edge of the bed and put both hands on the Prince's shoulders, holding him still. "Legolas, wake up. It is Elladan and Elrohir. Please, open your eyes, wake up. You are safe with us, you-

Legolas suddenly sat up and stared around fearfully, chest rising and falling swiftly, his breath coming in short gasps. "No," he whispered. "No, not again!"

"Hush, it's alright," Elladan soothed. "It is over, Legolas."

The Prince shook his head, the motion freeing a few tears from his eyes. "I don't want them any more, but I can't make them go away. Why do they come? I hate them."

Elladan pulled the Elfling to him, and wrapped both arms tightly around the small body. "Do you want to tell us what dream it was?"

"A horrible one."

Elrohir sat beside his brother, and gently stroked Legolas' hair. "Did you dream of your mother again?"

"Yes, but I don't want those sort of dreams," the child choked out. "I see her falling, but I want to see her playing with me or picking flowers, and laughing and wearing nice dresses. But instead, I see her dying."

'_What can we say to make him feel better?'_ Elladan thought helplessly, as the child cried quietly into his chest.

'_Do you want me to go and get his father or brothers?'_ Elrohir replied silently.

'_Yes, I-_

"Ada doesn't know, and I don't want him to," Legolas said sadly, cutting into the twins' thoughts. "I've only told you two. You won't tell anyone else, will you?"

"Why do you not want anyone else to know?" Elrohir asked.

"Because I don't want to be any trouble. I know that Ada and Airëlus and Calaen have enough to worry about without this," Legolas sighed.

"They would want to know," Elladan said gently, lifting the child's chin as he tried to look away. "Do you think they would not want to help you, if they knew you were unhappy?"

"But..."

"You have been having these dreams for two weeks now. Do you think they will go away on their own?" Elrohir asked softly. "You need help. Your father can give you that, as can your brothers."

"But I-

"Do you wish to carry on suffering?" Elrohir pressed, hating himself as tears pooled in Legolas' eyes once more. "Do you wish to spend every night of your life watching the death of your mother?"

"Stop."

But, Elrohir forced himself to ignore the plea. "I thought you wanted only to see the good times, and not the bad. Carry on as you are, and bad is all you are going to get. I'm sorry, but that's the truth, horrible though it may seem."

Legolas began crying at that, and he turned his face back into Elladan's tunic, so he would not have to listen any more. But even though nothing was said by the Elfling, Elrohir knew he had managed to convince him to do the right thing. He only wished there was an easier and kinder way to have done it.

'_I don't know whether to be angry that you upset him, or impressed that you changed his mind,'_ Elladan thought, as he comfortingly stroked Legolas' hair.

'_I shouldn't have said such hurtful things,'_ Elrohir replied guiltily.

'_No, he would not have understood anything else. Maybe the words did upset him, but at least he knows now that he cannot hold his silence,'_ Elladan reassured his brother. _'Go and get someone now, before he changes his mind.'_

Elrohir stood and looked down at the still crying Elfling. "Legolas, I am sorry. Please, forgive me, I did not mean to sound so harsh."

It seemed as though the Prince did not hear – if he did, he made no signs of it. Elladan glanced at his brother and nodded towards the door, indicating that he should leave. Elrohir nodded, and with a last look at the one he had un-intentionally hurt, spun on his heel and left the room. The remaining twin waited until the door was shut before pulling back slightly to look down at Legolas.

"He really did not mean it," he said. "Don't be angry with him."

"I'm not," Legolas replied, rubbing his eyes. "I'm angry with myself."

Elladan blinked in surprise. "But why?"

"Because, I should have told someone before. Ada would have wanted me to tell him, I suppose, but I didn't, and..." Legolas sighed, and shook his head. "What time is it?"

"Why the change of subject?" Elladan asked. When the child narrowed his eyes, he glanced out of the window, at the positioning of the moon. "It is two hours until midnight."

"That's late," Legolas nodded.

"Only if you're an Elfling," Elladan replied.

"You were an Elfling once," the Prince said accusingly.

"I'm not any more, though," Elladan said.

Legolas shrugged, and began pulling his fingers through his friend's dark hair. "Is 'Ro getting Ada?"

"I don't know, it depends what he is doing. Maybe Airëlus will come. Or Gandalf. Or my father. Or Calaen," Elladan replied absent-mindedly. "Or maybe all of them. Maybe Elrohir will invite the whole of Mirkwood."

Legolas giggled at that notion. "I don't think everyone would fit in here."

The Elf tickled the child, smiling inwardly as he was rewarded with a laugh. It was good to hear that. At least Legolas had forgotten the dreams – for the moment. But then, the door opened, and King Thranduil came in, followed by Elrohir. Elladan was slightly surprised that his own father and Gandalf had not also come.

"Did you have a dream, Greenleaf?" the Sinda-Elf asked, taking his son into his own arms.

"Yes," Legolas muttered. "It...it was about Nana."

Thranduil sighed, and nodded to the twins. "Thank you, Elrohir, for coming to get me. Elladan, thank you for taking care of him."

"It was no trouble," the dark haired Elves replied. They bowed slightly, smiled at Legolas, and left the room, so that the other two could have some privacy.

"Is this the first dream you have had?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas lowered his eyes, and shook his head once. "No."

"How long have you been having them?"

"Since Nana di...went," Legolas replied quietly.

Thranduil sighed, and touched a hand to the child's smooth cheek. "You should have told me. Why did you not? Did you think that I wouldn't care, or that I wouldn't try and help you?"

Legolas bit down on his lip. "I didn't want to be any trouble."

The King could only shake his head in absolute wonder. "You did not want to be any trouble? How can you...? Legolas, of course you would be no trouble. Never keep something like this secret, do you understand me? Never."

"I'm sorry," the Prince whispered.

"Don't be," Thranduil sighed. "Come, you can sleep in with me tonight. I think that..." He trailed off, and pulled the covers of the bed back. "Legolas, where is the blanket that your mother made you, the one that you normally sleep with?"

"I don't want to sleep with it any more, because I might make it dirty, or I might tear it, so I put it away where it would be safe," Legolas replied. "It is in my cupboard."

Thranduil sighed, and put his son down. "When did you do this?"

"A few days after Nana left."

"And, did you have any dreams in the few days that it remained with you?" the King asked, moving over to the cupboard, and taking the blanket, which had served as a comforter, back out. "I mean, before you stopped sleeping with it?"

"No," said Legolas slowly.

Thranduil nodded, and handed the blanket back to the child. "This was made by your mother, given to you when you were but a baby. Her presence surrounds it, and that is why you used to find it so easy to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep with it again, though. What if I tear it?" Legolas said anxiously.

"It was made for you," Thranduil replied gently. "Sleep with it tonight, and you will not have any dreams. At least, no horrible ones."

"Why?"

"What does it remind you of?"

"Nana," Legolas said. As realisation dawned, he smiled. "Oh."

Thranduil shook his head briefly. "It comforts you, does it not? Well, that is because you immediately associate it with your mother. I can honestly say that you will sleep well tonight."

Legolas bit down on his lip, suddenly worried. "What if I don't?"

"You will."

"But what if I don't?"

Thranduil looked into the hopeful face gazing up at him, and sighed. "I spoil you," he muttered. Sighing once more, he lifted the child into his arms. "You can sleep in with me for tonight, but _only _tonight."

"Thank you, Ada," Legolas smiled.

............................................................................................................

That night, Legolas did sleep in cuddled up against his father, but the blanket that Findilan had made for him did not leave his grasp. He had another dream. His mother was laughing, and her face was shining with happiness. Flowers were woven in her long hair, and her eyes sparkled with merriment. She was happy, and Legolas awoke the next day with a smile on his face.

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Well, its nearly midnight, and as I have to get up at 7 tomorrow morning for college, I really want to get to bed now. So, no review responses this chapter (sorry!), but I'll be back on Tuesday, with the next chapter. See you then!


	17. Chapter 17

Airëlus suddenly put down his book and stared at the ground, as he realised that his mother had died nearly a whole month ago. Four weeks, nearly thirty days. Put like that, it sounded even longer than it was. But it also helped to prove the point that time does not stop for anything, no matter what tragedy takes place. Life will always go on, and there is no way of halting it.

His moment of spontaneous reflection over, he sighed and picked up the book once more. He began to read, but had only gotten a further two lines down the page when his door burst open. The twins tumbled in, cheeks flushed, as though they had been running for a long while.

"I take it you two have never heard of knocking," Airëlus said dryly.

Sorry about that," Elladan grinned.

The Crown Prince shook his head and continued reading. The Noldor Elves were probably playing some sort of game with Legolas. He estimated that in about five minutes, the blonde whirlwind would have found his way to where the twins were – still in Airëlus' room – and all peace would be shattered.

"Sorry to disturb you," Elrohir said, "but, you're needed."

"I know," Airëlus replied, without looking up. "This book needs a reader. That is me."

"It really is quite urgent," Elladan added. "Very important."

"That may be so, but I've got to an important part," the Prince said, turning a page. "Glorfindel is just about to slay the Balrog."

"Oh, what are you reading?" Elrohir asked interestedly.

Airëlus did look up then, in amazement. "What do you think? Glorfindel has only killed one Balrog, has he not? Or have there been any recent changes to that number? If that is the case, it escaped my notice."

"I was just making conversation," Elrohir shrugged. He paused for a moment, but then spoke again. "Really, you are needed."

"By who?" Airëlus sighed. "Legolas? Tell him I'll play with him later. Calaen? I'll go down to the archery field with him later."

"It's your father," Elladan said dryly.

Airëlus winced, and put down on his book. "Oh, I see. What does he want?"

The twins glanced at each other, and smiled simultaneously. Then, they flicked their gazes back to the other Elf, and shrugged. Airëlus watched them for a moment. Something was going on. He could sense it. Their eyes were sparkling too much. They looked far too happy than was healthy.

"What does he want with me?" the Prince repeated.

"We are not at liberty to say," Elladan replied carefully.

"And, why not?" Airëlus asked.

"It's not our business," Elrohir said.

The fair haired Elf hissed at them, and strode over to the door. "Alright, be like that. Is he in his study?"

"No," Elladan smiled.

Silence fell. The twins had not moved from where they stood, and were watching him with strange expressions on their faces. Airëlus swept a hand through his hair, irritated, and took a step back towards them. Neither of them batted an eyelid. Though, if possible, their smiles widened.

"It is quite within my power to have you both locked up for a night," he said dangerously.

Our father wouldn't be too happy with that," Elladan said. "He might wage war on Mirkwood."

"I'm sure he will excuse me," Airëlus growled. "If my father is not in my study, then where is he?"

"The throne room," Elrohir replied.

Airëlus' eyes widened. "Has something happened? Is anything wrong?"

"Why?" the twins asked in unison.

"Well, he only calls us to the throne room if something has happened," the Prince said. "Or, if he's extremely angry. That only concerns Calaen and Legolas, though, not me."

Elladan smiled at the comment. "So I imagine. You should go. He is expecting you."

"Please, I am asking you this as your friend," Airëlus said. "Has something happened? I would have you tell me if that was so."

Elrohir shook his head, and touched a hand to the concerned Elf's shoulder. "Stop worrying. Just go. Everything is alright; he merely wishes to talk with you."

The Crown Prince bit down on his lip. It looked as though he was considering pushing his friends for further details, but he seemingly thought better of it, for he nodded at the dark haired Elves, spun on his heel, and left the room. The twins glanced at each other, eyes twinkling.

"Wait until he finds out," Elladan said.

"He's always wanted this," Elrohir replied. "But, maybe it has come at the wrong time."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe he will refuse the offer," Elrohir shrugged. "It would make sense. It seems a very...Airëlus-like thing to do, considering the circumstances."

Elladan sighed. "We'll find out later."

............................................................................................................

Airëlus waited impatiently outside the throne room, arms folded across his chest. One of the guards had told him that the King was busy, and would be free in a few minutes. He sighed, and leaned back against the wall. Though, he quickly straightened up when a passing Elf shot him a critical glance. Of course, it was not correct for the Crown Prince to be seen doing anything like that.

Sighing, Airëlus straightened his tunic, making himself look a little more presentable. He wondered vaguely what it was that Thranduil could possibly want with him - and in the throne room as well! Maybe something_ had_ happened, and the twins didn't want to tell him.

'_After the death of my mother, what could possibly be worse?' _Airëlus thought bitterly. But then he kicked himself mentally – now that he thought about it, it sounded incredibly disrespectful. But still, it was the truth.

He, and those whom he loved, had been put through a grief that should not be bestowed upon anybody, no matter what wrongs they have done in their lives. Findilan's death had changed them all, whether for better or worse, he could not say. It had brought them closer together, he felt, but of course, the sadness had not yet departed, nor would it for a long time, most likely.

"Prince Airëlus."

He looked up, startled. "Yes?"

The guard standing in front of him nodded once towards the doors. "The King will see you now."

Airëlus smiled weakly. He did not know why, but for some reason, being in the throne room always made him apprehensive. Probably because he so rarely had to go in there, and when he did, there was only bad news to be delivered. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards, and two more guards pushed open the heavy, oaken doors.

He stepped inside and walked slowly down the hall. The room was beautiful, there was no doubting that, yet still, it had the ability of being able to cause him great uneasiness. At the far end of the room were two platforms, one a little higher than the other. On the first stood three oaken chairs, for the Princes of Mirkwood, whilst on the second, there were two elaborately carved thrones. One was empty, the other was not.

King Thranduil sat in silence as his son came to a halt in front of the dais. His ice-blue eyes were un-readable, his face impassive, and he knew it. Of course, he would do nothing to change that. Not yet, anyway. Although he had to force himself to ignore the expression of concern that Airëlus wore.

"You sent for me..." The Prince trailed off, wondering how to address Thranduil. Should he address him as his father or the King? He decided on the latter. "You sent for me, Your Highness."

Thranduil inclined his head as Airëlus sank to one knee, as a gesture of respect. "Rise."

The fair haired Elf quickly did so, and the worry in his eyes was evident. Clearly it was all he could do to stop himself from demanding he be told the reasons for his being there. Instead, he stepped forwards a little, and locked his gaze onto the King's, pleading silently with his blue orbs.

"Yes, I did indeed send for you," Thranduil agreed. "You do not know why?"

"I do not."

The King let the sentence hang for a moment, before stepping down from the throne, and touching a hand to Airëlus' shoulder, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Calm yourself, there is no need for worry."

"There is not?"

"No, and nor is there any reason for formalities," Thranduil replied, "not today."

Airëlus visibly relaxed, and a little of the concern left his eyes. "Then, why did you call me here? Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, of course it is," Thranduil nodded. "Before you came, I had to speak with someone, and it just so happened that the discussion took place in here. It just made more sense to have you come down here."

"If I may ask, who was it?" Airëlus said carefully.

The King smiled, and stepped up on the platform to sit back down on the throne. "It was the Captain of the Guard. Of course, you are of the age now where you can become a solider of Mirkwood. You have done all the training, and he just wanted to finalise things."

"Finalise things?" Airëlus said in confusion.

"Yes," Thranduil replied. "You will be pleased to know, that you have been accepted into one of the patrols, and will be able to join the week after next."

"One of the...the week after..." Airëlus blinked in surprise. "Ada, is that true? But I cannot do that!"

Now it was Thranduil's turn to be surprised. "But I thought this was what you wanted. You always used to speak of joining a patrol, and how you couldn't wait to be part of one. What has changed?"

"Yes, I still do want to join one, and become a proper soldier, but not yet." Airëlus exhaled deeply and shook his head. "It is too soon, Ada, and I am not ready for it."

"And why would that be?" Thranduil sighed.

"I just can't," Airëlus said quietly. "It has been but a month since Naneth passed on, and I know that our lives are slowly getting back to normal, but I do not feel as though I can leave Legolas, Calaen and yourself, alone."

"I understand it is hard for you, but to base your own life around those of others is wrong," Thranduil said gently. "You want to do this, Airëlus, I can see that. Do not deny it."

The Prince was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head. "I will not deny it, but I will hate to leave you."

"You will not be," Thranduil replied. "Do not expect to be going on far-away expeditions in the first month or so. You say that you would hate to leave us? I would hate for you to stay behind just _because_ of us."

"Ada, don't make me feel guilty," Airëlus sighed.

"It is the truth," Thranduil shrugged.

The Prince nodded reluctantly. "Legolas will not take it well. I don't know how Calaen will react, either."

"They both knew it was coming," Thranduil said. "We will tell them tonight, at the evening meal. Do not worry about them, Airëlus. Maybe they will be upset at first, but they will be happy for you. We all know that you have wanted this for a long while. And to think, you nearly refused the offer!"

"You will be alright, though?" Airëlus said seriously.

"If you did not do what you want, I would _not_ be alright," Thranduil replied. "Follow your heart, and that will make me happy."

"I will," the Prince said quietly.

Thranduil smiled, and stepped down from the dais. "I never really thought I would see the day when you would be joining your first patrol. I suppose I expected you to stay young forever. I know I am not losing you, but still, it feels...surreal. When the Captain of the Guard came and told me that you are ready, it really hit me that you are growing up."

"You still have Legolas and Calaen," Airëlus said. His voice choked a little.

"Legolas has many years of childhood left, but Calaen is very close in age to you," Thranduil replied. "You are my eldest, and I don't think I have told you just how proud I am of you. I am, more than you can imagine."

Airëlus could only nod. He had not felt this way at first, but since the conversation had gone that way, he was beginning to understand his father's sense of loss. Yes, he was an adult now – his childhood was over, and there was no going back. He was going to become a soldier, a warrior of his country.

"And no matter where you go from here, I will always be proud of you, I will always love you, and nothing can change that," Thranduil continued.

"What do you mean?"

The King said nothing as he embraced his eldest son. He closed his eyes, and inhaled the familiar, forest scent of Airëlus' fair hair. "We do not know what the future holds for us. Anything can happen."

The Prince remained silent, but as the other Elf's words sunk in, an ominous chill swept through him. Yes, anything could happen, and there was nothing they would be able to do about it. The future is a power in itself – uncontrollable; un-changeable; unstoppable.

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**Lombadia Greenleaf: **I didn't have a blankie! Poor deprived me! But I had a yellow elephant who I called 'yellow Ellie-bellie'!

**Jedi Gollum: **I give Mozart permission to add Beethoven onto the end of James if he feels that he must. I hope that will make him think more highly of him.

**Halimanya: **Don't believe everything that you read! I read that on but then I found out that it was just a tabloid story. Fingers crossed, eh?

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yeah, it would have been better, but I guess that Thranduil doesn't realise that he's not paying attention to Calaen.

**Legolas-gurl88:** Hello! I'm sorry I didn't send you an e-mail yesterday, only my friend Louise came over, but I'll tell you all about it in a minute, cos I'll send you a message once I've updated. Anyway, speak to you in a minute!

**Melony: **I respect your opinion, and of course you have the right to think that my story is boring, because everyone is entitled to think what they want. I'm sorry to say it, but your comment was both unjustified and unhelpful. Unjustified because you gave no reasons to support what you said, and this then led to it being unhelpful, because I would like to improve my writing, but cannot do so if all I'm told is that it is 'boring'. I don't know whether you are still reading or not, but if you are, could you please help me out? Thank you.

**kathysidle: **Hello, I couldn't e-mail you yesterday because my friend came over and we were watching films and doing other random stuff, but I'll send you a message later! Bye!

Ok, I'm sorry about the delay for this chapter. I know I promised that the updates would be regular as of earlier this week, but I realised too late that this chapter had to be completely re-written, so that's why its late. Anyway, I appreciate your un-impatientness. Not that that is a word, or anything.


	18. Chapter 18

That night, at the dining table, Airëlus watched his brothers. He only needed to let his gaze rest briefly on Legolas, for it was clear that the Elfling, who was chatting away to the twins, was happy enough. But when the Crown Prince looked at his other brother, he knew that Calaen was suffering.

He had spoken very little during the meal, choosing only to address his father, Lord Elrond and Gandalf. Though, Airëlus suspected it was more out of respect than just because he wanted to. His meal lay untouched. At least, that was what everyone except his observant elder brother thought. The fair haired Elf had watched him pushing the food around on the plate, so it would look like he had eaten.

Airëlus sighed, and tore his gaze away. As soon as the meal was over, he would speak to Calaen, and find out what was troubling him. He glanced up at Thranduil then, and nodded. The King smiled and rose, pushing his chair back.

"If I could have your attention for a few minutes," he said to those seated at the table.

"I have a horse, but he's not very big. His name is Aráto because that is Elvish for 'champion' but you probably know that already. Anyway, he is black, like Calaen's hair," Legolas was explaining to the twins, oblivious to the silence around him. "He has a white stripe on his face, and heavy feet, too. Once, he kicked me, and I had a hoof-shaped bruise the next day."

"Fascinating as your story is," Thranduil said dryly, as the Elfling giggled, "we cannot spend all night listening to it."

"Oh! Sorry, Ada," Legolas smiled.

"I thought it was quite interesting," Gandalf commented.

"It was," Legolas nodded enthusiastically. "The bruise was lots of different colours, and even though it hurt, it was very nice-looking. Well, sort of."

Thranduil rested his hands on the table, and leaned forwards, fixing his son with a half-amused, half-irritated look. "I sincerely hope you will not be offended if I tell you to shut up?"

"No," Legolas shrugged.

"Good." The King turned his gaze back on the others, smiling inwardly as he caught sight of his eldest son's lowered eyes. "I know he does not like a fuss to be made over him, so you must forgive me if I do, Airëlus."

"Oh, what have you done?" Legolas asked in interest?

"Nothing," the other Prince muttered.

"You must have done something," Legolas pressed.

"Will you just let Ada speak?" Calaen snapped. Even as the words left his mouth, shame flooded over him, and he lowered his gaze. "I...I'm sorry, I just..."

Airëlus could see the sadness in his brother's green eyes, and it made his heart hurt just thinking about it. He wanted the meal to be over, so they could talk. Legolas looked slightly shocked at the tone of voice used, but he understood that he must have been irritating the other Prince, so he kept silent.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil asked carefully.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to sound so harsh," Calaen sighed. "Please, go on."

He forced himself to smile, but his heart was pounding away. For a month he had been hiding his thoughts and feelings concerning Legolas, and only a moment ago, he had come close to revealing himself. But, the child hadn't even done anything to warrant such sharpness! Despite that, Calaen had let himself become worked up.

Slightly thrown by his son's change of mood, Thranduil shook himself mentally, and tried to turn his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing. "Yes, as I was saying...I am more than delighted to announce that Airëlus, my eldest son and heir, has been accepted into his first patrol, and will soon become a warrior of Mirkwood."

There was silence. Gandalf smiled at the Crown Prince, and his eye twinkled with un-concealed pride. Lord Elrond, who had already been told by his own sons, was un-able to keep the expression of happiness from his face. But it was Calaen and Legolas who Thranduil watched closely, wondering how they would react.

Both of them remained quiet, staring at their elder brother with un-readable expressions on their faces. Calaen's eyes were filled with horror, though, and as the words penetrated, he felt his heart sinking. Airëlus was going. The time spent with his family would become less and less, and he, Calaen, would inevitably be forced closer to Legolas, as his one remaining brother.

"Say something," Airëlus said eventually. "I don't care what you say, just please don't sit there in silence."

"You'll be with real warriors?" Legolas asked in a hushed voice. "You'll be fighting, and riding horses?"

"Yes."

"You'll be sleeping outside, under the stars?"

"Yes."

"You'll be allowed to climb trees?"

"Yes."

"You'll be shooting arrows?"

"Yes."

"You'll be taking me with you?"

"Yes," Airëlus replied automatically. Then he blinked in surprise. "No! No, I won't. I'll

be doing all of what you said except that last one. You are far too young to come with me."

"Oh." Legolas' face fell, but then he brightened. "Will you bring me back something?"

Airëlus smiled – he had an idea of what was coming. "What could I possibly bring back for you?"

"An Orc or a spider," Legolas replied. "I don't really mind."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "Please, as if there are not enough evil beings residing in my forest."

Gandalf detected the bitter note in the King's voice, and looked back to Legolas, changing the subject. "Then, you are happy for your brother? Are you not sad that he will be leaving?"

"No, because I know that he will be coming back, and I will see him again," the Elfling replied. "He is not going away forever."

Although everyone understood the meaning behind the words, they did not comment on it. Thranduil breathed an inward sigh of relief – at least one of his sons had accepted the situation. But, what about the other one? He looked over at Calaen, and sighed when he realised that the Prince still looked absolutely stricken.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asked gently.

Calaen raised his eyes slowly. "I don't...I..." He trailed off, and looked at his elder brother. "That is wonderful, Airëlus. I am happy for you."

"That means a lot to me," the Crown Prince replied. But he could tell that Calaen was not happy – far from it, in fact.

"Will there be a feast to celebrate?" Elrohir asked hopefully. "Congratulations, by the way, Airëlus."

"Stop thinking about your stomach," Elladan said. "All you do is eat. You'll get fat, 'Ro."

Elrohir's eyes widened indignantly. "I will not! Anyway, you are being hypocritical – you eat just as much as I do. Besides, Elves do not get fat."

Elladan shrugged, and looked back to Thranduil. "So, will there be a feast?"

"Well..." The King glanced over at Airëlus. "Yes, there normally would be some sort of celebration, but it is not up to me to decide."

"I would rather we didn't, if that is alright," Airëlus said quietly. "You know that I do not care for those sorts of things, Ada."

Thranduil was silent for a moment. That was a lie – his eldest son loved nothing more than special feasts and dances and such. But he understood. Airëlus obviously felt it wrong to indulge in such festivities so soon after Findilan's death. He nodded at the Prince in comprehension.

Calaen relaxed as the conversation was drawn away from him. At least now that everyone's attention was on something else, he could let out the breath he had been holding. He couldn't believe it. He would be left alone with Legolas. How would he be able to face that?

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Later that night, after making his excuses to the twins, Airëlus was on his way to Calaen's room, filled with every intention of getting his brother to speak of his troubles. Whether the younger Prince would comply with his wishes, he did not know. Still, all he could do was try.

However, Airëlus was not the only one who had decided to try and discover the root of Calaen's problems. As he reached the door to his brother's room, Gandalf came around the corner, jaw set with determination. He looked at the Prince, and smiled.

"So, I see we had the same idea," he said.

"It seems that way," Airëlus agreed. "Something is not right, Mithrandir. I do not expect him to be happy – as you have said many times, people deal with grief in different ways. And, a month is not a long time, especially for us. But despite all that, there is something else."

"It could be nothing, but it is better to be safe and ask," Gandalf nodded.

"Has anyone else picked up on his strange mood?" Airëlus asked.

The Wizard sighed and shook his head. "Elrond did, but he and your brother are not close, and he did not expect Calaen to reveal any troubles to him. The last time the twins saw him happy was at the feast to celebrate Legolas' birth. A long time ago, hmm? They have grown accustomed to seeing him this way."

"And my father?" Airëlus sighed.

"He...did notice something was amiss," Gandalf said hesitantly, "but, he put Calaen's mood down to a bad acceptance of the news."

Airëlus nodded, though he looked unconvinced. "Very well. I will go, Mithrandir. Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to him. And anyway, seeing as how you are here..."

"No," said Gandalf, reaching out and touching a hand to the Elf's shoulder. "No, you go in. He would rather speak to his brother than me."

"Maybe you are right," Airëlus agreed. "Thank you for your concern, all the same."

"No need for thanks," Gandalf said. He smiled and turned to go, but then he looked back. "You did the right thing in choosing to follow your heart and do what you want. Your mother would be proud of you –just like we all are."

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Calaen sat on the edge of his bed, un-braiding his hair. His green eyes remained on the opposite wall, unseeing. His fingers worked automatically, and he was numb to all feelings, all senses. Airëlus was leaving. His elder brother would be gone within two weeks.

'_You'll see him still,' _part of his mind yelled. _'Stop overreacting!'_

But then there was another thought gnawing away at him. _'Airëlus will go,_ _and you'll be left alone with Legolas and the twins. Then they will go, and Legolas will want to play with you because he has no-one else, and you'll say no, but then Ada will make you play with him, just because he's your younger brother, and you won't be able to refuse that, and-_

There was a knock on the door. Calaen jumped up, fully aware that guilt was written all over his face, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. He tucked his half undone braid behind his ear, and walked across the room. Forcing himself to appear calm, he opened the door.

"Airëlus, what are you doing here?" he asked in surprise.

"Forgive me for wanting to visit my brother," the Crown Prince replied, stepping into the room.

Calaen sighed, and pushed the door shut once more. "What is it that you want, Airëlus? I am tired, and had every intention of going to bed."

"No, you can do that as soon as you have done something for me," Airëlus said firmly. "There's something wrong with you. I can see that, so do not bother to deny it. I want to know what it is. As soon as I know, I will leave you in peace."

"What do you mean?" Calaen asked. "You are mistaken."

"No, I am concerned for you," Airëlus corrected. "Can you not trust me?"

"Of course I can," Calaen snapped, turning away. "Why ask such a stupid question, when you already know the answer?"

Airëlus glared at his brother for a moment, before grabbing him and spinning him back around. "If you really can trust me, as you say, why do you keep silent? Why hide your troubles when there is someone to share them with. Why, Calaen? Why not tell me of your problem?"

"Because you are the problem!"

Airëlus blinked in surprise, and took a step back. "I don't understand."

Calaen shut his eyes as guilt washed over him. "No, I did not mean it like that."

"What have I done?" Airëlus asked quietly.

"Please, do not think for one minute that you have done anything," Calaen replied, hating the hurt in his brother's voice. "Leave it, Airëlus. Forget that I ever said anything."

"Don't be so damned stupid!" the other Elf spat. "You have a problem, but then you say you cannot tell me, because I _am _the problem. Do you really expect me to just let that go? I want to know what I have done, and if you cannot bring yourself to tell me, that is just fine. I will find Ada, let him know there is something wrong with you, and he can take it from there."

Calaen grabbed Airëlus' arm, and pulled him away from the door. "No! No, you will not, and even if you do, what difference will it make? He cannot stop you!"

"From doing what?" Airëlus yelled in confusion.

"From leaving," Calaen breathed.

The Crown Prince closed his eyes in despair, and jerked his arm away. "Why did you not say? Cal, is this what is wrong?"

The dark haired Elf hesitated. If he said yes, then he would not exactly be lying, but nor would he be telling the whole truth. He surely could not tell his brother everything, for how would Airëlus react upon finding out Calaen's feelings about Legolas? But, all that needed to be done was the truth twisted a little.

"Is that what is wrong?" Airëlus repeated.

"Yes," Calaen nodded.

Airëlus sank down to the bed, and rested his head in his hands. "I don't understand. You said you were happy for me."

"What do words mean?" Calaen asked. He smiled grimly and shook his head. "The truth is, is that I am afraid to see you leave so soon after...Why should I lose my brother so soon after losing my mother?"

"By the Valar, you are not losing me," Airëlus sighed. "I can understand why you are reluctant to accept the fact that I am leaving, but Calaen, this is so different to Naneth's death."

"Must you refer to it that way?" the younger Prince demanded.

Airëlus closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. But, can you not see how different this is? You will not be losing me; you will still see me. There is nowhere I can go that will prove impossible for you to get to."

"I know, but..." Calaen trailed off, and sat beside the other Elf. "Is it so wrong for me to feel sadness at this? What if it were the other way around, and I was going away to fight, and-?"

"I'm not going to be at the other end of Middle-Earth," Airëlus cut in.

"That's not the point. Sometimes you may be gone for days at a time. Really, how would you feel if I was going, and you would be remaining here?" Calaen continued.

Airëlus looked up, and sighed deeply. "No, I would feel exactly as you do now. I'm sorry this has upset you so, but what do you want me to do? Of course I can stay, and I will do so if that is what you wish of me."

Calaen winced at that. How could he live with himself if he stopped his brother from doing what he wanted? How could he live with the knowledge that his selfishness had prevented Airëlus from carrying out his dream? He couldn't. He would have to try and face up to his fear: Legolas.

It wasn't that he was actually afraid of the child, of course not. It was his thoughts of blame, this secret that he could not reveal to anyone, that frightened him and haunted his dreams. It was just that, every day spent with Legolas, increased the horrible way he felt, and that was what scared him.

"What do you want me to do?" Airëlus asked again.

Calaen was silent as he rested a hand on the Crown Prince's shoulder. "Go. This is what you want. I will be just fine. And as you say, I am not losing you."

Airëlus breathed a deep sigh of relief, and enveloped his brother in a tight embrace. "I am glad you realise that. Besides, it will not be too bad. On the days I am not here, you will still have Legolas."

'_Yes,' _Calaen thought bitterly. _'At least I will still have Legolas.'_

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Jedi Gollum: Yeah, I like Airëlus' hair also. I type my chapters on Microsoft Word, so to get the dots on Airëlus 'e', I just go in to insert symbol, and click that. Well, I used to do that. Now the computer just does it automatically. Nice James.

Melony: That's alright. :)

Lombadia Greenleaf: Well, the only thing I was thinking of doing set after 'Captured' was the alternate ending, because a lot of people wanted that. I'm still considering the alternate ending, though. I don't want to let go of Calaen and Airëlus, because out of all the characters I've created, they're the only two that I have really connected with. I guess cos I've been writing with them so long. But I have two other stories planned, and I'd like to get on with those. Sadly, they're stories with no Calaen and Airëlus! But yeah, I'll see how things work out...

Princess Vespa: James is always charming! Have you seen Ned Kelly? It is so good, I love it so much! And yeah, I love college, but it is a lot of hard work, especially drama, cos I'm doing two plays with the college (one of which I wrote myself), and I have main parts in both, and then I'm doing a play with a Regional Youth Theatre, so its pretty tiring!

Irish Anor: I understood that bit of French! Go me!

Haldir's Heart and Soul: Yeah, back in chapter 2, I think it was. No, chapter 3, Thranduil was telling Findilan how he thought they should tell the children, but Findilan didn't want to. He could tell them now, but...well, that will come up when the secret is revealed!

Galadriel1010: Yeah, I tend to do that!

Jennifer: Yeah, its not that he's leaving, just that he'll be away quite a bit, cos he's gonna become a warrior. How brave!

Kel: Well, Legolas took it better than Calaen!

Halimanya: That is a really nice compliment! I actually blushed when I read that, and I don't tend to do that a lot. Well, if I slipped on a banana skin I might, but believe it or not, I have never actually done that. Now that I've said that, I'll probably step on a banana skin tomorrow, and go flying!

Legolas-gurl88: Yeah, Airëlus is leaving, but it won't be for ever. And yeah, his leaving does give Calaen a chance to...well, change.Insert evil laugh here. It will all be very interesting!!!

Kathysidle: They do grow up fast, don't they?! Yeah, Calaen is also growing up, but at least Legolas is still ickle!

I'm sorry about the delay. My God, I've been saying that so much lately. College work is pretty heavy though, and I have to learn lines for three different shows, all of which I have a main part in, so my life is pretty much taken up by work. Then there's all the English essays, and films I have to watch and study for Media. Though, that isn't so bad, because we're actually doing LOTR, so I'm cool with that! Anyway, it's the weekend now, so hopefully I'll be able to get quite a bit of writing done.

I should tell you that this story will be quite a fast-moving one. Obviously it started when Legolas was 5/6, and its gonna go up to the beginning of 'Jealousy' where he's 14, so I can't write a chapter for every day of his life, cos that would be impossible. The next few chapter will be two weeks on, and then the one after that will be another two weeks on from that, and then it will go up to a few months later, and so on and so forth. Anyway, I think I've done enough talking!

Oh wait! A lot of people are worried that Airëlus is gonna go off and never return. Don't worry, he will be back, he's just off to go and fight Orcs and things like that, so this definitely isn't the end of him. Oh no, definitely not. I couldn't do that!


	19. Chapter 19

Two months had now passed since Queen Findilan's tragic death, and although the grief of the Royal Family was no less, each day was a little easier than the last...for most of them, anyway. King Thranduil had kept the promise he had made to his sons the day after his wife's burial, and devoted as much time as possible to them. Luckily, he still had the help of Lord Elrond and Gandalf, but it would not be long – only a few days, he thought – before they would have to leave, and go back to their own lives.

As for the Princes, they took each day as it came. Airëlus had been fighting as one of Mirkwood's soldiers for two weeks now, and already his Captains and the veterans had nothing but praise for him. Legolas was still firm friends with Elladan and Elrohir, who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to look after him. In fact, the three were rarely seen apart.

It was only Calaen who had no-one, it seemed. It was not often that a smile graced the Prince's features, but when it did, it was strained and with very little humour. He had taken to locking himself in his room, and despite being asked by Thranduil to show his face a little more, it was normally only at meal times that he would leave his sanctuary.

On this particular morning, the dark haired Elf was beginning to wish that he had remained in bed, and refused to come down. It was breakfast, and he was seated on Thranduil's right hand side, next to Elrohir, and opposite Elladan and Legolas. The three had done nothing to irritate him, but for some reason, he could feel the angry heat on his cheeks.

"We will be going down to the archery fields after breakfast for an hour or so, because we have been given permission by your father to help Legolas with his target practice," Elrohir said.

"You should come with us," Elladan added. "Don't worry, his arrows are quite blunt. He'd be a danger with anything sharp."

Calaen looked up, and shook his head. "No, thank you all the same. I much prefer to be inside, where I can be in peace."

"You're always inside," Legolas protested. "It's boring."

"It's what I like," Calaen said through gritted teeth. "I appreciate your offer, but I must say no."

"You're boring," Legolas sighed. "You never used to be like this. You used to be fun. You're changing."

"That's enough," Thranduil said quietly.

Calaen stared at his brother, and his eyes glinted. "You will learn in life, Legolas, that some things _do_ change. Most of the time, you're powerless to stop it from happening, even if you want to."

"Well, at least you didn't want to become boring," Legolas shrugged.

"Your brother is far from boring," said Elladan gently. "If he was, do you think we would've asked him to come and join us on the archery fields?"

"If truth be told, we think it would do you good to come out with us, Calaen. Being stuck inside _all_ the time cannot be healthy. You need to get some colour back in your cheeks," said Elrohir, raising his hand to touch it to the side of the other Elf's face.

"Get off me!" spat Calaen, hitting Elrohir's arm away. "Why can you not understand that I do not want to be with you three? You're despicable, all of you! How can you be so happy, and keep on pretending that nothing has happened?"

"Calaen-

"It sickens me, it really does," the Prince raged. "Why can't you just leave me alone? If I wanted your company, I would ask for it. As it is, at least when I am on my own, I do not have to put up with your constant cheerfulness. And you, Legolas, I thought our mother meant more than this to you. Or have you forgotten that she is dead?!"

"Calaen, that's enough!" snapped Thranduil, slamming a hand onto the table. He glared at the young Elf for a moment, before jerking his head towards the door. "Leave now, if you cannot control yourself. In fact...no, do not stay. You will go to your room, and you will stay there until I give you permission to leave. Go."

"At last." Calaen threw his chair back, and casting his younger brother and the twins looks of disgust, he stormed from the dining hall.

Elladan and Elrohir sat in silence, though Legolas lowered his eyes to the ground, trying hard to force back tears. He hated making Calaen angry, and it seemed as though this time, he had really crossed the line. He prayed that the other Elf wouldn't be too upset. But then his thoughts drifted to what had been said. Of course he had not forgotten that his mother was no longer with him! Why would Calaen think otherwise?

Gandalf, noticing that Thranduil, clearly stunned at what had happened, was making no move to comfort his youngest son, reached behind Elladan to rest his hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Feel no hurt at your brother's words, little one. They mean nothing. It is perfectly normal for him to feel angry sometimes. Though, maybe he went a little too far..."

"I should not have sent away," Thranduil said distantly. "He is upset."

"No, he wants to be alone, so you did him a favour," replied Gandalf. "I suggest you leave him for a while. Give him time to calm down."

Thranduil nodded, and a look of helplessness crossed his face. "I am sorry. Calaen does not normally behave like that, and I don't..."

"No, we understand," said Gandalf.

There was an awkward silence then, broken only by the deep sighing of Thranduil; the uncomfortable shifting of Elladan and Elrohir; and the occasional sniff from Legolas, who was still trying to fight away tears and guilt. It was eventually Lord Elrond who really broke the silence.

"As you are aware, Thranduil, I have been away from Imladris for two months," he said. "You do remember that today was the day I had arranged to take my leave? Of course, if you still need me, I will stay a little while longer."

"I had not realised it was today," Thranduil murmured.

"I can stay if you-

"No." The Elven-king shook his head, and smiled. "I thank you for your offer, and all that you have done. Now that you have mentioned it, I remember you speaking of it only yesterday. You have helped me more than you can imagine. But, life goes on, and I must accept that. Go back to Imladris, Elrond."

Legolas stared from Elladan to Elrohir in horror. No-one had bothered to inform him that they were leaving! From the expressions the twins wore as they sadly shook their heads at him, it was clear that they had already been aware of their day of departure, but had neglected to tell him.

"I think it is time to reveal something else," said Gandalf slowly. "Much as I regret it, I also must leave. I have business elsewhere, so I will be travelling to Rivendell with Elrond, and then going on my way from there."

"You can't leave!" Legolas cried. "You have not been here for very long, not really. Please don't go."

Thranduil glanced sharply at his son, and shook his head. "Mithrandir has the right to leave whenever he wished. I respect that, and so should you."

"Sorry," said the Elfling quietly. "I'm being selfish. And I _do _respect what you want, Mithrandir."

"I know you do," Gandalf smiled. "I know."

Thranduil leaned back on his chair and folded his arms tightly over his chest, sighing inwardly as he did so. Now would come the big test. Could he carry on as he had been doing, without his friends to help him? He would soon find out...

............................................................................................................

"Just because we are going back to Imladris, it doesn't mean that we will never see you again," Elladan said gently.

Legolas watched as the twins pulled robes from their oak wardrobe. "I know. But it will still be a very long time before I can see you both. I don't really have any other friends. I used to, but...I don't know. Some of them have stopped talking to me. They don't want to play any more. I didn't mind, because I had you. But now..."

Elrohir winced at the Elfling's words. "There is nothing we can do to prolong our stay here. Talk to our father. He has more control over the situation than we do."

"Alright." As Legolas moved over to the open door, he paused and turned back to the twins. "I'll miss you." With that, he was gone.

"Ai, I'll miss him also," Elladan sighed. "I never thought that I would befriend one so young, but it has happened. I think we have found a friend for life in the little Prince."

"Hmm. Did you...hear what he said about his other friends?" asked Elrohir carefully. "About them not wanting to talk or play with him?"

"Yes. I expect they just feel uncomfortable around him, because of all he has been through," replied Elladan. "Why?"

Elrohir shook his head for silence, and went across to shut the door. When he returned to sit on his bed, his face was troubled. "When we were down at the archery fields earlier, there were a group of Elves nearby, maybe around our age. I only heard snatches of their conversation, but from what I got, they hold Legolas responsible for Findilan's death. They were whispering that if it wasn't for him, they would still have a Queen."

"They blame him?" breathed Elladan. When his twin nodded, he sighed deeply. "Valar, things are not going to be easy for Legolas."

............................................................................................................

Lord Elrond opened his door, after hearing a gentle knocking, and smiled when he saw who stood there. "Ah Legolas, please come in. Is everything alright, little one? You do not look very happy."

"I don't want you to go," Legolas whispered, climbing up onto the bed beside the Elf-lord. "I want you to stay here, and 'Dan and 'Ro. And Mithrandir."

"This is _your_ home," Elrond said gently. "My home is in Rivendell. Elladan and Elrohir's home is in Rivendell. Gandalf's home is...wherever he chooses to make it. We cannot stay here for any longer. I have left Glorfindel and-

"The Balrog-slayer?"

Elrond nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "The very one. I have left him in charge of Rivendell, along with Erestor, but I am the true Lord, and I must return. This is not the end of things. This is not the only time in our lives that we will meet."

"You really must go?" asked Legolas quietly.

"We really must go."

"And there is nothing I can say to stop you?"

"I am sorry."

Legolas nodded resentfully, and slid from the bed onto the ground. "Alright. I'll go. I suppose you have things to do, and I would only get in the way. I'll go to see Mithrandir."

Elrond watched as the small boy turned and left the room. "We will meet again one day, little one. Be sure of it."

............................................................................................................

As it happened, Gandalf was not inside the palace, and no-one had seen any sign of him. So, poor Legolas spent the best part of an hour running around, trying to find him, filled with horrified thoughts that maybe the Wizard had left without saying goodbye. Eventually though, the Prince found him in one of the gardens, sitting on a marble bench.

"Good afternoon, Legolas," said Gandalf. "I expected you to come and find me sooner. It is not long before we leave."

Casting the Istar a baleful glance, Legolas jumped up on the bench beside him. "I did try and find you sooner. I have been looking for a whole age. No-one had seen you, and I was afraid you had left without saying goodbye."

"My apologies," Gandalf said. He looked down at the child, and smiled gently. "Now, word has reached my ears that you are not very happy about all this. It is natural for you to want us to stay, but do you wish to tell me what you haven't told anyone else?"

"What do you mean?" asked Legolas.

"You can tell me," said Gandalf gently. "I know there is something troubling you."

The small Prince sighed, but nodded all the same. "Everyone...everyone who I love is leaving me. Nana left, and I know that I'll never see her again. Unless _I _die, but I don't want to do that yet. Airëlus left me to be in his patrol, and the last time I saw him was a few days ago, but that was only for a little while. Elladan and Elrohir and Lord Elrond are leaving today and so are you. I don't know when I'll see you again."

"We may be leaving, but we are not really leaving," said Gandalf.

Legolas tilted his head to one side, confused. "But that doesn't make sense."

"Do you remember what I said to you a while back, after your father...well, after you and he...?" Gandalf trailed off, wondering if the child would get upset.

"After Ada hit me," Legolas said quietly.

"Ye-es. Well, do you remember what I said to you?" asked Gandalf. "You were upset about your mother's passing, and I told you that-

"She will always be in my heart and memory," Legolas finished. "So, do you mean that it is the same thing here? That you and the twins will still be with me in my head, even though you are not_ really_ here?"

Gandalf smiled benevolently. "Exactly. I see that you do pay some attention, then. Besides, not everyone is leaving. Your father and brother remain here, do they not?"

"Yes," Legolas nodded, though his expression was still troubled. "I don't think they will go anywhere for a long time, but...Mithrandir, I am worried about Calaen. I upset him this morning at breakfast, and I haven't seen him yet. I don't know if he will want to see me."

"What you must understand, is that everyone deals with grief or loss in their own way," said Gandalf. "But no matter how he chooses to cope, your brother loves you, and even now probably regrets his words. Has he been given permission to leave his room yet?"

"Yes, but he is still in there," Legolas replied.

"Well, I suggest you go and see him. He will say to you what I have already, and the words will mean so much more coming from his lips than those of an old fool," Gandalf smiled.

Legolas giggled, and stood up on the bench to wrap his arms around the Istar's neck. "You're not an old fool, Mithrandir. Even if you were, I would still be friends with you. I'll be sad when you leave later. And I will miss you a lot."

Gandalf looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead touched a hand to Legolas' shoulder, and tilted his head towards the palace. "Go on, little one. Go to your brother."

............................................................................................................

Calaen lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had had a long time to contemplate things, but still had no idea as to why he had exploded at breakfast. He hadn't even meant most of what he said, anyway. Or had he? The twins and Legolas were not really despicable. But still they were just so...so...

As he struggled to find the right word, there was an almost timid knocking on the door. He glanced across but remained quiet. Maybe if whoever it was thought he was asleep, they would leave. No, there was another knock. Silence remained in the room. Another knock.

"Curse it," Calaen growled. He jumped off the bed and across the room, and wrenched the door open. When he saw his younger brother standing before him, he felt a whole rush of emotions: anger, guilt, pity, more confusion.

"Can I come in?" asked Legolas quietly.

"What do you want?"

"Please, can I come in?"

"I...I....oh, alright then." Calaen turned and went back to the bed, leaving his brother to push the door shut. "What do you want, Legolas. Don't stand there in silence. Say something."

The Elfling came forwards and looked for a moment as though he was going to climb up onto the bed like he used to. He remained standing, though. "I wanted to see how you are. I wanted to make sure that you are not still angry or upset."

"Oh no, I am ecstatic," Calaen said hollowly.

"I know what that means now, and I don't think you are." Legolas gazed at his brother, and reached out a pleading hand. "I'm sorry for making you upset at breakfast, and I don't-

"You're always sorry."

"What do you mean?" asked Legolas.

Even as he tried to stop himself, and force away the anger, all of Calaen's words came tumbling out. "You were sorry for running away that day in the clearing; for making Naneth climb that damned tree; for ruining one of her dresses; for making Ada angry; for everything, you are always sorry! Do you really think it means anything? Well, do you?

The Elfling bit down on his lip, and shook his head in disbelief. "Cal, I didn't know that you...I..."

As suddenly as the fury had filled him, it disappeared, and Calaen felt guilt wash over him. "Valar, forgive me," he breathed. "I didn't mean that. They didn't mean anything, those words. Legolas, I am sorry."

Closing his eyes, Calaen moved down to the ground and pulled his brother close to his body. How could he have said what he did? How could he say that the words didn't mean anything, when he wasn't even sure of that himself? He exhaled deeply, and pulled back a little.

"I'm sorry, Legolas," he said quietly. "I don't know what came over me. I don't know many things at the moment, and I can't help but feel...feel... There you go, I can't even tell you how I feel. Funny, isn't it?"

Legolas backed away slightly as his brother laughed. "I don't think it is. Cal, you're crying. I don't find that funny."

Still laughing, Calaen reached a hand up to his cheek. When he pulled it away, it was damp. "So I am. I didn't realise. How funny."

"Stop saying that," Legolas whispered. "There's something wrong with you."

"I know." Calaen closed his eyes and sank back down onto the bed. "I know there is, but I don't know what it is." Silent tears still fell from under his dark lashes, but now, he did not laugh.

............................................................................................................

**Jedi Gollum:** When I was on the train on the way back from London, there was a guy sitting opposite me with long, blonde hair! He was pretty hot! No, I've not seen Lost. Stupid British TV!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul:** Yeah, too right. Well, I don't want to say how Calaen found out, because otherwise it will give it away. But all of that is in chapter...hang on, let me check...chapter 24/25. Hope you can wait that long!

**Elven Kitten:** Yeah, I get sad when I write it!

**Galadriel1010:** Thank you!

**Halimanya:** Yeah, I like him very much, even though I know what he becomes and what he does later on. sigh It's so tragic!

**Lombadia Greenleaf:** I'm looking forward to writing my next stories also, but I always make sure that I never start something whilst in the middle of something. Like, I had the idea for 'Jealousy' when I was in the middle of 'Friend or Foe' and the waiting was so annoying!

**Legolas-gurl88:** I think I sent you an e-mail last night. Yeah, I did. Anyway, don't worry about it. My family are always yelling at each other. Last night, my mum and dad were arguing over how many ducks to get for Christmas!!! I just rolled my eyes and turned up the TV! Anyway, speak to you later, hopefully!

**Princess vespa: **Yeah, three plays! One is called 'No Exit'. There's three characters, and they're stuck in hell, and the theme is that hell is actually other people. Very interesting! The other one, which I'm writing, doesn't have a name yet, but its set in an asylum. There's an evil doctor who does all he can to turn sane people insane. There's a truly insane person, Smith, who ends up killing my character, Jo, because the doctor is so close to making Jo insane. Yeah, so Smith kills Jo, so she doesn't have to be put through insanity, and that proves that Smith isn't as insane as she's thought to be. And the other play is one that I'm doing with a youth theatre. Set in Victorian times. I only have half the script of it at the moment, so I'm not quite sure of what its all about! Cool, you and your friends make movies? What kind? No, I haven't seen Gone With the Wind. Woah, this was a long response!

This chapter means quite a lot to me, because the last bit, with Calaen and Legolas, is based on my life. Not as it is at the moment, but as it used to be. Yeah, some of you may think it odd that he can be not-so-nice at one point, but then is feeling guilty and is apologising the next. But maybe there are some of you who can identify with him, and understand a little of what he is going through. I wonder...Anyway, see you next chapter!


	20. Chapter 20

Later that day, the people of Mirkwood had gathered to witness the departure of the Rivendell Elves, and Gandalf. Calaen and Legolas stood side by side, silent as shadows. Neither of them had said even one word. There was an unspoken agreement between the two Princes that all that had taken place earlier would remain secret.

Legolas looked across to where Elladan and Elrohir were seated on horses of a deep grey, and he smiled sadly. The twins inclined their heads and returned the smile – equally as unhappy. Just in front of them was Lord Elrond; to the left of him, Gandalf, who was addressing King Thranduil. The Elf was quiet but courteous, nodding at intervals, or shaking his head.

"If you should need me, send a message," Gandalf finished. "Rest assured I will come to you as soon as possible, if circumstances allow it."

"No." Thranduil shook his head and smiled vaguely. "Your work here is over, Mithrandir, and I thank you greatly for all that you have done. You also, Elrond."

"Let us pray that the next time we meet, it will be under circumstances much more pleasant," the Noldor Elf said. He nodded and Calaen and Legolas, then glanced back down at his Sinda friend. "Namarie, Thranduil."

With that, he murmured a soft Elvish word to his steed, and he was off, the rest of the party following close behind. Hooves thudded on the ground, dust rose from the flanks of the parting horses, and a chill breeze blew in the air, fluttering cloaks and hair.

As the Rivendell entourage rode away, the Elves of Mirkwood also began to leave in their respective groups, murmuring quietly. Eventually, it was only Thranduil left, and he turned slowly to face his children. Calaen was staring down at the ground, absently sliding his foot from one direction to the other, whilst Legolas was biting down on his lip, glistening eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

Thranduil sighed, and walked forward to where the two Princes stood. "Come, let us return inside."

"They're gone," said Legolas quietly, reaching out and catching his father's robes. "Ada, they're gone."

"I know." Thranduil knelt down and gently disentangled his son's fingers. The two locked eyes for a moment before the elder pulled the younger close, and straightened up once more.

"Airëlus didn't get a chance to say goodbye," Legolas sighed.

"No, he will. His patrol will be riding to the borders of the forest with Elrond's party, to make sure that they encounter no trouble," Thranduil replied. "Do you think that Airëlus would even let them go if there was no chance for him to say goodbye?"

Legolas smiled, and buried his face in his father's robes. "I didn't want them to go," he whispered.

"I know you didn't, Greenleaf, but they have. And now, it is time for us also to go back inside. It seems pointless to stand out here for the rest of the day," Thranduil said.

"It is not pointless to those who enjoy standing pointlessly outside," Calaen muttered, kicking a stone across the courtyard.

Thranduil turned sharp eyes onto his middle son, but kept calm as he said, "I would expect to hear something like that from a child of Legolas' age, not you. I am taking your brother inside now, but you, by all means, may stand out here if that is what you wish to do."

Calaen watched through narrowed eyes as the Elven-king turned and left. His emerald orbs met Legolas' sapphire ones, for the Elfling was looking over his father's shoulder, an un-readable expression on his face. _Ah yes,_ _perfect little Greenleaf,_ the Prince thought bitterly. _It is too bad the rest of Middle Earth is not more like him._

He suddenly blinked, as though waking from a deep sleep. "Jealous of Legolas?" he muttered. "Crazy. What does he have that I don't? Nothing."

Calaen raised his eyes skywards as a sudden wave of despair washed over him. Feeling a rush of jealousy for his little brother was strange enough, but something told him that after all that had taken place over the last few months, there was a lot more to come.

............................................................................................................

It was early in the evening, and the dining hall in the Mirkwood palace was almost silent. King Thranduil sat at the head of the table with Calaen on his right hand side and Legolas on his left. Not being accompanied with Gandalf, Lord Elrond and the twins was strange. The Royal Family had become so accustomed to their presence, that it just did not seem right.

'_And there is one other missing,'_ Thranduil thought bitterly, not for the first time. _'Findilan should be here. But she's not. Elbereth, how I miss her!'_

The Elven-king glanced across at Calaen, whose meal was untouched. Staring down at the table, the Prince tried again to stand his knife up, sharp point down. Again, he failed, and it clattered to the oaken table top. So, continuing his game, he picked it up again, and the whole process was repeated.

"Calaen," said Thranduil quietly. "Stop that."

Defiant green eyes were raised, and they held the King's blue gaze, as the knife was deliberately dropped once more. Even as he did it though, Calaen felt a twinge of regret, and he wondered why he had done it that last time. Maybe it was just to see how far he could push Thranduil.

'_You know why,' _a voice in the back of his head jeered. _'You want Ada's attention, and you're not getting it.'_

'_Shut up,' _he told the voice.

Thranduil sighed inwardly as Calaen leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He was not going to lose his temper over something as trivial as this, as he had far more important things to think about than his son's phase of insolence. For that was what it was, after all: a phase.

"Legolas, you must eat some more food," the King said at last, looking over at his other child.

The small Prince glanced down at his meal in disdain. "I'm not hungry, Ada."

"You have eaten very little, and if you do not eat, you will not grow up to be a strong warrior," Thranduil replied. That statement always made his son think twice about starving himself. "Please, just a little bit more."

Legolas was silent for a moment, before shaking his head. "I can't eat the meat. It is too hard. See?" To prove his point, he poked the venison with his finger, tapping the underside of the table with his other hand as he did so. A hollow knocking sound was made.

"Nice try, Elfling," Thranduil said, smiling despite his mood. He moved from his seat and went to stand behind the Prince. "It is a pity it did not fool me."

Legolas sighed as the King leaned over him and began cutting the meat. "Ada, I'm not hungry. And your hair is in my eyes. Please, I don't want to eat."

Thranduil smiled briefly and pushed his hair back over his shoulder as he finished cutting his son's food. "Maybe you don't, but I would rather you did not waste away due to lack of nourishment."

"Nourishment?"

"Food." Thranduil lifted Legolas out of the chair, sat on it himself, and pulled the boy down to sit on his lap. He speared a piece of venison onto the fork, and brought it to his son's lips. "Eat this."

It was with great reluctance that Legolas opened his mouth and accepted the food. He glared through narrowed eyes as the next piece of venison was lifted. "There. I've eaten. No more."

"Don't be so petulant," Thranduil sighed.

On the other side of the table, Calaen was watching his father and brother's every move. Legolas had just taken his second bit of food, and as Thranduil softly praised the child, his elder son clenched his fists. The dark haired Prince knew he was far past the age when he could be treated like that, but it wasn't fair that Legolas should have all that affection, whilst he, Calaen, did not.

"If you have just one more piece, that will be enough," Thranduil was now saying. "I promise that you will not have to eat any more."

"Only one more piece?" Legolas asked.

"I made a promise, did I not?" Thranduil tugged gently on the Elfling's braid when there was no reply. "Eat this last piece otherwise I'll make you eat the whole plate."

"The whole plate?" Legolas' eyes were wide as he stared up at his father. "But Ada, it is impossible to eat a plate. My teeth would break!"

Calaen made a scornful noise, and his voice was taunting as he said, "It is a figure of speech, stupid child."

"You are not stupid," Thranduil said swiftly, placing one hand on Legolas' shoulder as the young Prince flinched at the words. "It is not your fault that you do not yet understand some methods of language."

"Oh." Legolas leaned forwards and ate the last piece of venison without further protest. "Finished."

"Good boy. It was not that hard after all, was it?" Thranduil smiled, and lowered the Elfling to the ground. "Now that you have eaten, you can go and get ready for bed. Then-

"It's not time for bed!" Legolas protested.

It will be if you do not let me finish," the King said sharply. "Get ready for bed, and then it is one less thing for you to do later. Besides, it is not as early as you think."

"So, I don't have to go to bed?"

"Not yet."

Legolas nodded and ran from the dining hall, pretending not to hear his father's call of 'stop running'. As soon as the door had swung shut behind the Elfling, Calaen pushed back his chair and was about to get up himself, when Thranduil's voice halted him.

"Stay where you are. I said he could leave, not you."

Disbelief flitted across Calaen's face, and he stared at the older Elf incredulously. "I have finished eating, Ada. I wish to go to my room."

"I sent Legolas away so that we would not be disturbed," Thranduil said, leaning forwards and resting his arms on the tabletop. "I wanted to talk to you earlier, but never got the chance, what with preparing for Elrond's departure."

"Talk about what?"

"I just...I just want to apologise," Thranduil replied. "I fear that I have been very sharp with you today. To be honest, I was worried about Mithrandir and Elrond leaving, and I think that my worry turned into anger at times. At breakfast for example, you were clearly upset, and instead of sending you away, I should have left the others for a while so that we could speak about what was bothering you."

Calaen shook his head. "There is...was nothing bothering me."

"I have been watching you, ion-nin," Thranduil said gently. "You smile no more, and I have not heard your laughter in a long while. And do you think I have not noticed the fact that you spend every minute of the day in your room or down at the archery grounds, alone?"

"I prefer being alone," Calaen said through gritted teeth.

"Before your mother died, you were so happy. It was possible to hold a pleasant conversation with you," Thranduil continued, and his voice was almost pleading. "Now you have changed."

Calaen smiled grimly, and shook his head. "Do you _expect_ it to be otherwise? I have lost my mother, Ada. I am not going to see her again. Is it surprising that I am somewhat different?" Even as he spoke, he felt angry at himself – how could he use Findilan's death as an excuse for his behaviour?

"You are not the only one who is suffering. Maybe this sounds harsh, but you must accept that your mother has gone." Thranduil gazed across the table at his son, and held out a hand. "I know it still hurts. I am not saying it shouldn't. But, your grief will not get any less if you shut yourself away."

"Ada..."

"Airëlus is not here as much as he used to, so this does not apply to him. Legolas, though... He gets sad sometimes, which of course is expected. But it could be a lot worse for him. The only reason it is not, is because he has not withdrawn from those who wish to help."

Calaen's body suddenly tensed, and his fists clenched under the table. There it was again: Legolas. He was sick and tired of hearing 'Legolas this, Legolas that.' This was perfect. Now he was once again being compared to his little brother, a child, an Elfling, a spoilt brat who-

"You had two months which you could have spent with Elladan and Elrohir," Thranduil was saying. "They have the ability to cheer anyone up. Valar, they even made me feel a little better at times. Why did you-?"

"I did not know that grieving for a loved one was a sin," Calaen cut in, his voice uncharacteristically cold. "Obviously it must be, for I have seen you doing no such thing. But I am glad that your life is perfect, you are happy and that you have no worries. Now, if you do not mind, I am tired and I wish to go to bed. Goodnight, Ada."

With that, the dark haired Elf jumped up and ran from the room, blinking back tears – of what, was unknown – as he went. Thranduil just sat in stunned silence. He had never heard any of his sons speak so, and had definitely not expected it from Calaen. Shaking himself mentally, the Elven-king also threw back his chair, resisting the temptation to turn and violently sweep everything from the table, as he left the hall.

............................................................................................................

It was with a great sense of satisfaction that Thranduil kicked his chamber door open, and the sound of it slamming back against the wall was more than rewarding. Surprise swiftly descended though, when a startled Elfling jumped up from where he had been sitting on the floor.

"Legolas, what are you doing in here?" Thranduil asked, making sure that he did show any frustration on front of his son.

"I...I wanted to be with you because my room feels too empty. Elladan and Elrohir would normally be in there, but now they're not, and Airëlus isn't here, and I think that Calaen is tired and wants to go to sleep now, so I brought my toys in here." Legolas gestured to his carved soldiers on the floor. "You're not angry, are you, Ada?"

"No. No, of course not." Thranduil shook his head as he sank down onto the large bed, which still felt empty without his wife. "I'm not angry at all. You may stay until it is time for you to sleep."

"Yes." Legolas watched his father for a moment, before picking up one of his soldiers and making it walk across the floor. "Are _you_ going to sleep now?"

"No, just resting for a moment."

"Oh. Are you tired, Ada?"

"A little bit."

"Oh."

Thranduil lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling. He suddenly felt something bumpy under his body though, and he arched his back slightly so as to pull the object out. "Legolas, what is this doing in here?"

"It...fell."

"Oh, I see. And, where did it fall from?" asked the King, concealing a smile.

"My...hand."

Thranduil nodded, and gazed at his son's woollen blanket for a while. It had been made by his wife when their youngest child had not even entered the world. Findilan had named it 'an old piece of nothing' but as soon as newly-born Legolas had touched it, he had fallen in love, and would not be separated.

"Another memory," Thranduil murmured.

"Ada?"

"Nothing. I was talking to myself," replied the King.

"Oh." The Prince was silent for a moment, then he smiled. "Elladan and Elrohir told me that talking to yourself is the first sign of going mad."

Thranduil pushed himself into a sitting position, and stared down at the Elfling, who was still making soldiers march across the floor. "Legolas Greenleaf, are you calling me mad?" No reply, except a quiet giggle. "You are, aren't you?"

Legolas looked up and smiled, shrugging his shoulders. Biting back the first proper laughter since his wife had died, Thranduil dived forwards and grabbed his son around the waist, and lifted him into the air. The child cried out in delight, though it quickly turned into a whimper of despair as the King lay back down on the bed, still holding him high up.

"Ada, put me down!"

"I could keep you like this all night," Thranduil mused, moving one hand around to tightly hold the back of Legolas' tunic. With the other, he rested it casually behind his head. "I am quite content. You do not look comfortable, though."

"I'm not," Legolas growled.

"Ah, good. That's alright, then," Thranduil said. He fell silent, and looked up at the Elfling calmly. "Am I mad?"

"Yes, because you're holding me up in the air like the way that the sun and the moon and the stars hang in the sky!" Legolas retorted, kicking his feet.

Thranduil shook his head, and stretched his arm even higher. "Wrong answer, Greenleaf. Am I mad?"

"No," said Legolas resentfully.

"Thank you." With that, Thranduil moved his arm across to the other side of the bed, and released his hold on his son's tunic. The boy fell – not a particularly long way – and hit the soft surface with a muffled thump.

"Ada," he breathed, rubbing his nose. "That was not nice." His face shone though, and his eyes sparkled.

'_Anything to see you happy,'_ Thranduil thought. _'Little do you know it, but your smile and the sound of your laugher helps the pain. If only I could elicit the same responses from your brother.'_

"One day when I am as strong as you, I will hold you up in the air," Legolas continued. "I'll never let you down, Ada. You'll be stuck."

"I doubt that," Thranduil smiled. He paused, and glanced down at Legolas' blanket. "I know why you brought this in here, and the answer to your unasked question, is yes. You may sleep in here tonight."

"Really?"

"I said so, did I not?"

Legolas nodded, and slipped under Thranduil's arm, resting his head against the Elven-king's chest. "Ada, I don't think that you look like a mad-Elf, anyway. I think that someone who was mad would have...grey hair, and a long grey beard, and they would be very old."

"Do you know who you have just described?" asked Thranduil. "Mithrandir!"

"Oh. Ada!" Legolas stared up at his father accusingly. "The next time I see Mithrandir, I will tell him that you said he is mad."

"I said no such thing, you are twisting my words," Thranduil replied incredulously. "That is a lie, and you know it full well, Legolas."

"Mithrandir doesn't need to be told that," the child said slyly. "When he finds out you called him mad, he might...turn you into a firework, and send you off into the sky. That would be funny."

"Ai, go to sleep." Thranduil leaned his head back against the pillows, and smiled inwardly as the small boy fell silent. A curtain of hair fell forwards into Legolas' eyes, and as he reached out a hand to brush it away, so did his father.

Their fingers met, and the older Elf folded his hand around his son's smaller one. "Sleep, Greenleaf."

"Don't you want to get changed?" Legolas murmured.

Thranduil merely shook his head. In truth, he was reluctant to break the contact he had with the Elfling. After all, out of his three children, Legolas was the only one who was still young enough to be this affectionate. Airëlus had grown up a long, long time ago, and Calaen...

'_Is changing,'_ the King thought sadly. _'He has already changed, and whatever I say only seems to make matters worse. I wonder if my talk with him earlier did more damage than good.'_

............................................................................................................

Calaen straightened up from where he had been watching through the keyhole of the door to his father's chambers. He had seen the play between Thranduil and Legolas, had seen the way that the King had looked so tenderly and lovingly upon his youngest child. That could all change.

"Alright, Ada," Calaen murmured, as he moved silently down the corridor. "Do you _really_ want me to be more like Legolas? We'll see about that. I wonder how you feel once _that_ little brat also 'changes'. But you will get what you originally wished for. I will stop being so withdrawn and reclusive. Yes, you will get what you wished for...and more."

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Coolio02: Yeah, it is really sad! I get sad writing it!

Lombadia Greenleaf: Yay, you didn't forget James! A lot of people do. Poor deprived James!

Galadriel 1010: Yeah, that would be good for him. I'll phone around, see if the Middle Earth psychiatrist (God, I hate spelling that word!) is free!

Halimanya: Yeah, I expect they'll be popping up again!

Kel: Don't worry, there will be more of the twins at some point!

Kathysidle: Yeah, totally. Poor Legolas!

Legolas-gurl88: I hate it when computers are slow, so I sympathise with you! I'll send you an e-mail later anyway, to say hi and everything. Well, knowing me, I'll say more than hi, and I'll be rambling on for ages! Anyway, hope your marching practice went ok!

Well, that was quite evil! He hasn't suddenly become evil though, so don't worry about the quickness of it all. There's still confusion and helplessness to come for him, and no doubt a lot of guilt. Anyway, not a lot to say. Oh, yes I do. I dyed my hair blonde! And I got locked out of my house earlier for an hour in the pouring rain with only a dog and a cat for company. Poor me!


	21. Chapter 21

Two months had passed since the night when King Thranduil had tried to speak with Calaen, and had only received coldness and anger from his son. It was also two months, since the dark haired Prince had stood in the shadows, and made a promise heard by no-one, to change, to become a different Elf. And, change is exactly what he had done.

**Thranduil's POV**

_Looking back, I do not know why I was worried for Calaen. Of course I should have known that it was all just a phase that he would grow out of soon enough. And, he has. He no longer locks himself in his room; he no longer sits in a dark corner of the library; he no longer hides away from those around him. _

_He speaks more and more every day, and in fact, he has improved so much, that I am able to hold a pleasant conversation with him now. He still has no** real**_ _friends, I have noticed. There are some Elves of his age that he will spend time with, but they are more...associates, than anything else, I think. But if that is what he wants_...

_For a while, I was afraid that I had lost him, afraid that my son would never return to the way that he used to be. But he has, and I think that he has come through the grief a stronger person. His eyes, which used to sparkle with laughter, had dulled, yet now they shine once more. _

_Life is not the same without Findilan, of course it is not. And there was a time when I feared that we would never be able to move on. But we have. We have pulled through that hard time, when it was thought we would not, and each day is a little easier than the last. I know now, that after this, we will be able to get through anything. _

**Legolas' POV**

_I don't really know if Cal is getting better or not. He used to like me a lot, and he would play with me and read to me, but then when Nana died, he stopped doing that, because he was so upset. But I wasn't lonely, because I had Elladan and Elrohir. When they left to go back to their home, I didn't have anyone. _

_But Cal has changed again. Before, I was scared of him. I didn't know what to say around him, and I always seemed to make him angry. I hardly saw him in the day, and at mealtimes, he wouldn't talk to me. That made me upset, because we_ **_always_** _used to talk_ _and play together._

_But now, he is different. He still doesn't play with me_ **_that_** _much, but when I was on my_ _own the other day, he came to my room. I was playing with my soldiers, and he sat down and played too. He still didn't talk much, though. In fact, the only times he really talks to me, is when Ada is with us. _

_That's quite strange, actually. If Ada is with us, Cal is nice to me, and he laughs a lot. But when we are alone, I see him giving me funny looks sometimes, and he tells me not to disturb him,_ _because he wants to read. I don't mind, though, because I think this is better than the way it was before. _

_But, I still miss the way he used to be even** before**_ _that, before Nana died. I used to go into_ _his room every single night, before I went to bed, so that we could talk. I miss that a lot. I want to do that again, because I love him, and if you love someone, you should spent time with them. That's why Ada spends time with me, and that's why Airëlus spends time with me when he comes home._

_Maybe Calaen thinks that I don't love him, because I don't go to his room any more at night. That wouldn't be very nice. Poor him. I should go and see him later, because I don't think it would be very nice at all, thinking that you weren't loved. I don't know if he will want me, but I hope so._

............................................................................................................

Calaen dipped his quill into the ink, and immediately began writing once more in his leather bound book. His hand moved swiftly, and he did not even pause to think about what to write next. More and more of his thoughts came spilling out of his mind to land on the parchment.

_. . . harder than I thought it would be. . . do not know how long I can keep up the pretence. . . Ada thinks that everything is alright now . . . I'm scared. . . confused. . . cannot face Legolas. . . still do not know what is happening to me. . ._

It was true, all of it. Everyone thought that he was happier than he had been since Findilan's death, but they knew nothing. They did not know how he cried at night, how he prayed for answers, how he wished for the chance to find out what was going on in his own mind.

Every day, he wore a mask. When he sat at the dining table and laughed with his father, it was not him, it was a different person. When Airëlus came home and they went out riding, everything that he said, that he did, was a lie; a pretence. No-one knew, though. And he would never let them know. It was _his_ pain, _his_ weakness.

_. . . surrounded by so many, yet I'm alone. . . no-one even suspects. . . they think that what they see is the real me. . . sometimes I just want to scream at them to look deeper. . . but I know that this secret must be kept. . . I can talk to no-one. . . _

Did he even want to? No, he did not.

_. . . so confused by Legolas. . . I love him, of course, but. . . these feelings. . . will not leave. . . sometimes I hate. . . he has no idea. . . then, nor do I, not really. . . blame. . . jealousy. . . this pain cannot be spoken. . . makes no sense. . . Legolas has done nothing . . . he is innocent. . ._

But was he? Was he really? How could he be?

Calaen threw his quill down onto the desk and stared at the words he had written. And as he re-read them, tears filled his eyes, and everything blurred in front of him. The words swam on the page, coalescing into black monsters that jeered up at him, mocking him, taunting him. With a yell of rage he grabbed the book and threw it across the room.

"Why?" he whispered helplessly. "Why me?"

He hated how he could not even answer his own questions. He should know himself better than anybody, but he didn't. He no longer knew who he was, what he felt, and why he felt. He knew nothing. Closing his eyes, Calaen buried his face in his hands, and finally allowed his tears to fall.

When he had stood outside his father's chambers and vowed to change, he had hated Legolas, had been filled with a desire to hurt him. But now...? "I don't know," the Prince said softly. "I feel as though I don't know anything any more, and-

He drew in a sharp breath when there was a knock on the door. Damn it, could he not get some peace and quiet to be alone with his thoughts? Swiping roughly at his eyes, Calaen went over to the door. But when he reached it, he paused. He did not _have_ to see whoever it was. He could pretend to be asleep, and maybe they would leave.

"Do not take the easy way out," he told himself quietly. "You have to get stronger; you have to beat this weakness."

Nodding resolutely, he forced the expression on his face to become neutral, and he pulled open the door. Although his heart sank when he saw who it was, he made sure that the mask did not slip, that he did not reveal anything. Of course, he did not have to work very hard at that, for he was becoming very well practiced in it.

"Legolas, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Do you mind if I come in?" the Elfling asked shyly.

Calaen stepped back wordlessly, and watched as his brother entered the room. Legolas was nervous, it seemed. He bit down on his lip and twisted his hands; one of his bare feet drew patterns in the soft carpet; he kept his eyes lowered, but it was clear that he wanted to say something.

"What did you want?" Calaen asked.

"Well, I...I just wanted to talk to you," Legolas said quietly.

"Go on, then."

The child nodded, and watched the older Elf go to sit on the edge of the bed. "Do you remember what we used to do before Nana died?"

Calaen looked up sharply, surprised both at the question, and the mention of his mother. Shaking himself mentally, he replied, "We did many things before Naneth passed on."

"Yes. Well...there was one thing that we did, but we don't do it any more, and I miss it a lot," Legolas said.

Only a few months ago, Calaen would have found this adorable, the way that the child edged around what he wanted to say. Now though, he found that he hated it. "By the Valar, Legolas, will you just say what you want to say, or get out?" he snapped. He paused, and looked down at his brother. "You are supposed to be in bed anyway."

"I know, and that is what I wanted to talk about," Legolas replied. He had flinched at Calaen's harsh tone, but forced himself to think nothing of it. "Can you remember how Ada or Nana would put me to bed, and then I would sneak out and come to see you, even though I wasn't supposed to?"

"I remember," Calaen said softly.

Legolas smiled happily at that. "And I would come in here and we would talk about lots of different things, or you would read to me. I liked that, because you can make your voice sound different, so I was able to tell all the different people in the book apart."

"It made you laugh," Calaen nodded.

"Yes, it did. But sometimes you wouldn't read. Sometimes you would sing to me, and that would always make me fall asleep," Legolas continued. "And you never woke me up, Cal. You always let me stay in here for the night."

"I thought that if I took you back to your room, you might wake," Calaen said. It was with great difficulty that he was keeping his voice steady. The memories were awakening new emotions in him.

"And sometimes, Ada would find out that I had left my bed, and he would come in here to get me, but we would both pretend to be asleep so that I wouldn't have to go back," Legolas said. "And then when he left again, we would burst out laughing, because we fooled him every time."

Calaen leaned forwards to rest his head in his hands. "Why...why are you saying all of this, Legolas?

"Because we haven't done it since Nana died, and I miss it so much," the Elfling said softly. He paused, and took a tentative step forwards. "Do you, Cal?"

The dark haired Elf was silent as he wondered how to answer. No, he did not miss it, because if truth be told, he had not given a single thought to it. He wished that Legolas had not come in, wished that he had not begun to speak of the past. All he had done, was drive home the fact that things would never be the same again.

"Cal, do you-

"I don't know," Calaen snapped. "Why should you suddenly start to miss it now, after four months? It obviously did not mean that much to you, if you have only remembered it now."

"That's not true," Legolas breathed. "It did mean a lot to me, Cal. I used to look forward to going to bed, just so that I could spend time with you. And I _have _wanted to come in here, but I was afraid."

"What were you afraid of?"

"You!"

"Me?" Calaen blinked in surprise. "Why should you be afraid of me?"

Legolas shook his head, and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Because...because I didn't know if you would want to see me or talk to me. I didn't know if you would be happy or mad, and I didn't know if you still loved me." He paused, and looked up, somewhat nervously. "Do you?"

"Why so many questions?" Calaen asked, his voice choking.

"Why so few answers?" Legolas retorted.

The dark haired Elf looked down, and his eyes flashed angrily. "Alright, you have said what you wanted to say, I have listened to you, it is over. Get out, Legolas, leave me with the peace I had before you came along and shattered it."

"Calaen-

"Out!"

Legolas' eyes filled. Not with tears, but just with disbelief and sadness. So, his brother was unable to answer a question which should not have even had to be asked. He held Calaen's gaze for a few seconds longer, before turning and going over to the door. But just as he reached up to the handle, there was a knock from on the other side.

"Calaen, are you busy?"

Legolas froze at the voice, and, not taking his eyes off the door, said quietly, "It's Ada."

Calaen paused. Only a few months ago, he would have hidden his brother somewhere in the room. Maybe in the cupboard, or under the room. Not this time, though. He looked down at Legolas, and locked eyes with him, as he called out, "No, I am not busy. Come in."

"But Cal..."

The dark haired Prince shrugged. "Sorry. You should be in bed anyway."

The oak door opened, and King Thranduil came into the room. At first, he looked towards his elder son, not even noticing the small presence beside him. But when the shifting of that small presence caught his attention, he glanced down. Annoyance seemed to flit across his face at first, but it quickly vanished as he delicately arched an eyebrow, waiting for the child to speak.

"Hello Ada," Legolas said in a small voice.

"Hello Legolas," the Elven-king replied.

"I'll go back to bed now, Ada."

"Yes, you do that."

"Alright. Goodnight, Ada."

"Goodnight, Legolas."

As the child slipped silently from the room, Thranduil shook his head slightly in amusement. "Yes, he will go back to bed...after taking a detour to the kitchens to steal some food."

"Why do you let him go on his own, then, if you know he will do that?" Calaen asked.

"He's a child, let him have his fun," Thranduil replied. "You did it when you were his age. I can remember that your mother decided to make a chart, and every time we caught you and Airëlus sneaking off to the kitchens, she would put a mark on it."

Calaen was silent for a moment, his mind working furiously. He couldn't remember doing that. Shaking himself, he nodded, and smiled. "Yes, you are right, I suppose."

"Hmm. What was he doing in here anyway?" Thranduil asked, sitting down in the chair at the desk.

"Oh, I don't think you really want to know," Calaen replied.

The Elven-king tilted his head sideways. "What was he doing?"

"He...came in here shortly after you put him to bed, and said that it was too early to go to sleep, and he wasn't going to, and no-one could make him," Calaen said abruptly. He sighed, and shook his head regretfully. "We were actually in the middle of an argument before you came."

"Were you indeed?" Thranduil said slowly.

Calaen nodded. "Yes. I think he was just about to storm out when you knocked on the door."

"Temperamental child," the King murmured.

"Well, that is what I thought also," Calaen agreed.

Thranduil picked up a quill from the desk, and began absent-mindedly turning it over in his fingers. "I will talk to him about it tomorrow."

"No, I would not do that if I were you," Calaen said.

"And why would that be?"

"It was partly my fault anyway," the dark haired Elf admitted. "I told him to stop being immature, and that he should go back to bed. Just watch him carefully, Ada, to make sure that he does not act like that again, and I will tell you if he should do something like this in the future."

The Elven-king was silent for a moment, but then he nodded. "Hmm. Yes, alright then. Anyway, I came in here for something else."

"Yes?"

"The last few months have been difficult for all of us, but for you especially. You were always strong, ion-nin, but now you are even more so," Thranduil said softly. "I just...I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

"Are you?" Calaen was genuinely surprised, and it showed on his face.

"Of course I am. Why would I not be?" The King moved across to sit on the edge of the bed, and rested a hand on the Prince's cheek. "You are my son, Calaen, and I love you more than you can imagine. You have made me proud since the second you drew breath, and I know that you always will."

"Ada," Calaen muttered.

"I speak nothing but the truth," Thranduil said quietly.

Calaen smiled, and moved forwards slightly to embrace his father. As he buried his face into the King's robes, his eyes glinted coldly. So, Legolas had been afraid of him? That was interesting, very interesting. That had never happened before. He had never before had power.

'_You lied about him,' _an accusing voice said in the back of his mind.

'_I know I did, and it was easy to do so,' _he replied silently.

'_But it was very wrong,' _the voice continued.

'_What do you know?'_

'_I know it was wrong, and you should not have done it.'_

'_Shut up!'_

'_It was wrong.'_

'_But at the same time, strangely satisfying. If I did it once, I can do it again.'_

'_That is wrong.'_

Calaen pushed away the nagging voice of his own conscience. What did it know anyway? Yes, accusing Legolas of something he had not done had made him feel good; it had made given him a rush of power that he wanted to feel again. No. He _would _feel it again. He would give it a bit of time before striking again, but strike, is what he would do.

............................................................................................................

**Legolas-gurl88:** Wow, that picture sounds really funny! I saw some really funny LOTR captions the other day, so I'll send those to you also! Oh dear, I feel bad for that teacher, who had most of his class go out to read the book, because they hadn't already! Anyway, I think I sent you an e-mail the other day. Yeah, I remember what I put in it, so I definitely did send it this time!

**Kathysidle:** Yeah, I totally know what you mean about being pressed for time! I have five days in which to learn a whole script. I don't know how the heck I'm gonna do that, but hey, I can try!

**Elven Kitten: **I know, I know. It is very sad. But just think, if there wasn't any evil Calaen, then there would be no storyline to 'Jealousy' or 'Captured.' Or this one, for that matter. So really, evil Calaen is good. In his own way!

**Kel: **Nope, tempers are good. Do you know what's even better? Cookies. Give me some of those, and I'll consider bringing the twins back in!

**Halimanya: **Yeah, I feel sorry for him also. Its quite funny, actually. I can remember when I was writing 'Jealousy', everyone said how much they hated him, and how he should be thrown into craters and everything. Now he has people feeling sorry for him! Honestly...

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Hope you had a good holiday!

**Princess Vespa:** You have a day of school? Get this: I have a whole week of college, because we're already half way through the term. Its cool that they give us time off just for...getting up early in the morning and sitting in the college café, drinking hot chocolate! I'm making myself sound really lazy. I do actually do a lot of work! Oh yeah, to answer your question, he is gonna be finding out in about seven chapters or so! Prepare for even more emotional turmoil!

That's not very nice. Well, this is the last of my 'gap-filler' chapters. If you don't already know, I have actually already written up to the chapter where Calaen finds out about his real father, and that is in like, 7 chapters time or something. But when I was going to put up a chapter, I realised that there were loads of gaps that had to filled in, so I went on a writing spree, and that is why a lot of the updates were late.

Anyway, Calaen's evilness is starting to show. He is still very confused, of course. His thoughts are very muddled, and obviously he doesn't know what or why he is doing things. His character is very much based on myself, so it's quite interesting, writing him. Just to let you know, though, that I have never killed anybody, and I'm not planning to. Anyway, see you soon!

PS: Did anyone see EastEnders on Friday? Can you believe that Sarah stabbed Martin? Ok, do any of you guys even watch EastEnders? I doubt it. Now you all probably think I'm crazy, rambling on about some TV show that no-one has even heard of. Yeah, I'm crazy.


	22. Chapter 22

Calaen stepped out of his room and moved slowly down the corridor, smiling or nodding to any servants who passed him. They, like the King, were under the impression that he had returned from the darkness he had been in, and all were overjoyed at that, for they also had missed his laughter and sparkling eyes.

Yet the darkness had not left, and nor would it for a long time, if ever. It was quite a frightening thought, but Calaen knew that he must accept what he was given in life. After all, had he not been taught that in one of the cruellest ways possible? Had he not lost his mother, and had there not been any other choice but to accept her death?

He had dreams. All the time. The Queen would be falling from a tree again, falling straight through the air. This was bad enough. What made it worse was the fact that Legolas would be sitting on one of the branches, smiling so innocently. But Calaen knew. The child had pushed her.

'_No, not actually pushed her, I know that. But if not for him, she would still be here,'_ the Elf thought bitterly. _'He may not have physically pushed her, but he still killed her.'_

As anger threatened to overwhelm him, he bit it back, and continued to move causally down the corridor. He _had_ to be calm for what he was about to do, otherwise it would not work. He had waited a long time to begin these games, because of course he had not been able to rush into them. They required time, patience and planning. He had known that ever since the idea entered his head, two months ago, when he had first lied about Legolas.

"Anyway, at least precious little Greenleaf got to live his perfect life for a while longer," Calaen smirked, as he stopped just outside his younger brother's door. "How kind of me to let him."

An old vase stood in a niche in the wall. It was old, yes, but the servants kept everything so meticulously clean, that Calaen could almost see his reflection in it. The corridor was near to silent, the only sound being his breathing, which he noticed was coming faster than it normally did. Adrenaline; excitement; anticipation.

As the Prince reached out to touch the vase, all the while looking around to make sure that no-one was coming up behind him, he swiftly withdrew his hand. Could he do this? The last time he had blamed Legolas for something he had not done, it had been on the spur of the moment. But this... this was all planned.

'_Of course you can do it. The boy killed your mother,' _an unknown voice whispered in his head.

That settled it. Nodding in determination, Calaen snaked a hand out and grabbed the vase. Jerking his arm back, the ornament came with it, and as it met thin air, he let it tumble to the ground. Without even waiting to see the end result, he turned on his heel and ran around the corner, the sound of it shattering ringing in his ears even as he did so.

There was silence for a moment, and then one of the doors opened. Calaen smirked as he heard a soft exclamation of 'oh!', and then, wiping the smile from his face, he stepped back around the corner. "Legolas! What have you done?"

The Elfling had been kneeling on the floor, staring at the shards, but now he jumped up once more. "No, this wasn't me, Cal. I heard a crash when I was in my room, and I came to see what it was. I found this."

"Legolas, that was a very old vase," Calaen said sharply.

"But I didn't do it!"

The dark haired Elf smiled, and nodded in understanding. "Oh, silly me. Of course, I forgot that inanimate objects actually _do _have lives, and when no-one is looking, they like to go for walks. What about this vase, then? I suppose it wanted to try its hand at flying? Get a grip on yourself, Legolas. Do you really think Ada will believe _that _when I tell him?"

"But I didn't do anything," the small Prince said desperately. "Please, Cal, why won't you believe me? You can't tell Ada."

"Tell me what?"

Legolas spun around, and his eyes widened in horror as he looked up into his father's face. The Elven-king stole an impassive glance at the shattered vase, and then glanced at Calaen, who merely shook his head. Sighing, he looked back down at the clearly terrified Elfling.

"Well, I'm waiting," he said. "What do you not want your brother to tell me, Legolas?"

When the only response was silence, Calaen gestured to the vase. "I came around the corner to see this tumbling to the ground. He was the only one in the corridor when it happened. You can guess the rest, I think."

"Alright," Thranduil nodded. "Legolas?"

"I didn't," the child whispered. "I didn't."

The Elven-king paused for a moment, and knelt down so that he was at eye level with his son. "Legolas, if you did do it, I will not be angry. I know you well enough to be sure that you would not do something like this on purpose. Was it an accident?"

"Ada, I didn't break it," Legolas said pleadingly, his eyes filling.

"Accidents happen all the time," Thranduil continued. He sighed, and put a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Do you remember the day that I got very angry at you, Greenleaf? So angry that I struck you? You are not afraid that I will do something like that again, are you?"

"No, because you promised that you wouldn't, and I believe you," Legolas replied. "You wouldn't break a promise, Ada."

Thranduil smiled at his son's faith in him. "Alright. But the vase is broken, and I still do not know how. Legolas, are you telling me the truth?"

"I saw him," Calaen said quietly.

"Let your brother answer," Thranduil replied.

Legolas shook his head, and the motion caused a single tear to fall. "Ada, I didn't break it. I'm telling you the truth. I wouldn't lie to you. Please believe me. Please."

"Hush," Thranduil soothed, reaching out and delicately brushing away the tear on the distressed child's cheek. "If you say you did not do it, then that is enough for me. I believe you, Legolas."

"But I saw him," Calaen said angrily. As his father turned cool eyes on him, the Prince's mouth ran dry in apprehension. Surely the Elven-king could not have guessed?

"I expect the vase was balanced precariously on the edge, and that was what caused the fall. It is no strange thing," Thranduil replied. "I am sure you just associated the accident with Legolas because you saw him standing here after it had broken."

"I'm sure," Calaen said quietly.

Thranduil smiled, and stood up once more. "Now that is agreed, I will have someone come up here to sort this mess out – I fear that I am late to a meeting, so, if you will excuse me..."

The two brothers stood in silence as their father swept away from them, back around the corner. Calaen looked down at Legolas, a strange light in his eyes, and an even stranger, un-readable expression on his face. He said nothing, for, what _could_ he say? He bit down on his lip, and closed his eyes briefly.

"Why?" Legolas asked. His voice trembled in confusion, anger, and disbelief.

Calaen opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He held the child's gaze for only a few seconds, before shaking his head helplessly. Turning sharply on his heel, he ran. He ran as fast as possible, away from Legolas, away from the look of complete and utter betrayal on his brother's face.

He leaped down a flight of stairs and sprinted past startled servants and some of Thranduil's advisors, who, like their King, appeared to be late for their meeting. The occasional Elf reached out and tried to catch him by the shoulder. They were concerned for him, but their help was shunned. Calaen merely tore away from them.

His breathing ragged, he darted out of a side door and entered one of the palace gardens. It was one that his mother had loved greatly while she had been alive. He paid no attention to the rain that was slowly drizzling, and he sank down to the ground, back resting against a stone pillar.

"What have I done?" he breathed, resting his arms on his knees. As his vision became blurred, he buried his face into the crook of his elbow. "Valar, how could I... why... what is happening to me?"

The truth was, he did not know. He knew nothing at that moment in time. Confusion; desperation; helplessness; hatred – was it for himself? Legolas? Everyone? He just wanted to stay alone in the gardens for all eternity. Maybe if he did not drown in his tears, the rain would do it instead.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" asked a sudden sneering voice. "Oh, it's his Royal Highness, Prince Calaen?"

The dark haired Elf snapped his head up, and started as he saw Berian, one who had long tormented him, standing in front of him. He hastily drew his sleeve across his eyes, and jumped to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Not that it is any business of yours, but I thought I would take a detour to the palace," Berian shrugged. "I'm on the way to deliver a message to the King, you see."

"What message?"

"Never you mind," Berian said sharply. He paused, and smiled. "Have you heard that I've joined a patrol? The message contains details of... soldier things."

'_So, that is why I have not seen him for a while,' _Calaen thought. He looked up, and said scornfully, "My brother joined the patrols months ago. And he is younger than you."

"Not by very many years," Berian snapped. "Anyway, Princes are privileged. We mere common-folk must work to get what we want, whilst you and your brothers are handed everything on a plate."

Calaen merely shrugged, despair momentarily forgotten. "If you say so."

Berian stepped forwards, and touched a hand to the younger Elf's still damp cheek. It was quickly hit away. "You have been crying. What could possibly have upset the spoilt little Prince?"

"Nothing which concerns you," Calaen spat.

"You are not as polite as you used to be," Berian remarked. "Quite a temperamental child, aren't you?"

"I am not a child," Calaen snarled, "and I have no time for this conversation."

Berian watched as the Prince began walking away. "How is your brother these days? I have not seen much of him."

Calaen paused, but did not turn. "Which one? Airëlus?"

"No, the bratty little thing who throws temper tantrums when he does not get what he wishes for," Berian replied meaningfully. "Have you heard what is being said about him? Not by all, of course. He is still very much loved. But there are still a good few who whisper."

"What do you mean?" Calaen asked, and this time he did turn around.

"Just because I dislike you, it does not mean I feel any happiness at your loss," Berian said carefully. "Your mother's death was tragic, and she was loved by everyone. Some resent the fact that their Queen was taken in the way that she was."

"What do you mean?" Calaen repeated.

"News travels fast. It did not take long for it to be revealed that your mother died because she was trying to get some _leaves_ for your infantile brother," Berian replied. "She died so needlessly, my Prince. Some have even turned against little Legolas."

Calaen shook his head. "That is a lie."

"I do not waste my breath, and I can assure you that I am telling nothing but the truth," Berian said. "But, believe what you will."

"Who has turned against Legolas?" Calaen asked curiously.

"I, for one. The Elves of your father's age dote upon your brother, whilst the older ones look on him as though he was a gift of the Valar. It is mostly those around our age, and that surely cannot be good for Legolas," Berian replied. "He will grow up with this blame placed on him from his own generation. No-one will do anything to harm him, of course, but we still resent him for what he has done, for killing your mother, our Queen."

Calaen turned and walked silently away. What guilt he had initially felt at trying to land his brother in trouble, was now gone. There was now no doubt in his mind. Maybe he had known it all along, but had just needed the confirmation of another. Berian was right. So were those who supported his views. It was all Legolas' fault. Findilan's death; the emptiness and confusion that the dark haired Prince had felt; everything.

Everything was because of Legolas. It was all his fault.

............................................................................................................

After dinner that night, Calaen excused himself from the table, and left to go to his own room. Just as he was about to push open his chamber door, someone grabbed the bottom of his tunic. He looked down, and his green eyes narrowed when he saw who it was.

"What do you want?"

"You haven't answered my question," Legolas said softly.

"And, what question would that be?" Calaen asked. "It cannot have been of any importance if I have forgotten it."

"I wanted to know why you told Ada that you had seen me breaking the vase," Legolas replied. "You know that I didn't. Have I done anything to upset you? Were you trying to get back at me for something?"

"If only you knew." Calaen shook his head and pushed open the door. "Unfortunately you do not, and I am not going to waste my time enlightening you."

Legolas slipped into his brother's room just as the door swung shut. "What do you mean by that? Cal, tell me what I have done. Please."

"Why should I?"

"Because...because I can try and make it better," Legolas said. "But I can't do that if I don't know what I've done."

Calaen glanced down at the Elfling, and shrugged carelessly. "Do you ever have things that you don't want anyone else to know? Things that you want to remain in your own head?"

"Yes," Legolas said quietly.

"Then you will understand and appreciate that I am not going to divulge what thoughts are in _my_ head. Good." Calaen nodded in approval, but paused at the expression on his brother's face. "Put simply, that means I am not telling you anything."

"Why do you hate me?" Legolas suddenly asked.

Calaen blinked in surprised, but swiftly fixed the impassive mask back on his face. "Leave me now. I wish to have some peace and quiet."

"But-

"Leave!"

Legolas stared at his brother for a moment, but then nodded. His eyes were sad. "I will go. Maybe in the morning, you'll tell me why you hate me. I hope so. I don't like knowing that I've done something to hurt you, but not knowing what it is. If you told me, I could change things, and make it all better again."

With that, the Elfling turned and left in silence. Calaen laughed bitterly as the door closed once more. "You could make it all better? Think again, Legolas. Think again."

............................................................................................................

**Jedi Gollum: **Yeah, EastEnders is British stuff! Well, when I'm finished this, I have two other stories lined up. I'm still thinking about the alternate ending, but to be perfectly honest, that's looking more and more unlikely. But I'm really looking forward to getting started on the other two stories!

**Kathysidle: **Thank you for trying to make me feel better! Its ok, I can talk to my friends about EastEnders. Its quite funny actually, because as soon as the episode is over, I have like, one friend on my house phone and one friend on my mobile phone, both yelling 'oh my God, did you see EastEnders?!' It happens every night!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Yeah, Sarah's knife could have been put to better use on Calaen!

**Elven Kitten: **I think that was quite mean of me to make him good, but then to kill him!

**Halimanya: **Well, throwing him into a crater has good points and bad points. A perfect example, like you said, is that his head might get smashed into mush, so this particular idea might be a little too violent. At the moment, anyway. You killed Coney? Heck, I didn't see that coming!

**Jennifer: **I know, I do also, even though he is turning into a meanie :(

**Vanessa: **Do you mean 'A Brother's Jealousy' or 'Captured by the Past', because I finished both of them. If you go onto my bio page, they should both be there. If not, I can only suggest that aliens have stolen them! Yeah, 'Jealousy' is the one where Calaen held just Legolas captive, but 'Captured' is set at the time of the Fellowship. :)

**Legolas-gurl88:** That's really cool that you're doing King Arthur. Is that in Brit.Lit? It sounds like you do some really interesting stuff in that subject! Yeah, I find him really interesting also. I haven't seen the film yet, but from what I've heard about it, I'm already quite disappointed. I think it's because I've already read the book, and I don't think that the film is very in keeping with the book. Oh well!

**Pippin the hobbit-elf: **I'm so glad that someone else knows what I'm talking about! What humour pages? As in, the ones on this site? Yeah, I have been to a few, and there are some pretty hilarious things out there! That's cool that you're going as Jack Sparrow for Halloween! Me and my friend were going to go as Aragorn and Legolas, but couldn't get costumes in time, so I'm just gonna stay in with my friends and watch scary movies!

**Kel:** Well, thanks for the cookies! I can guarantee that the twins will come back into the story. However, I'm sorry to say that it won't be for a while, but they will **definitely **be in again. I mean, what's a story without Elladan and Elrohir?!

**Irish Anor: **Here's an update!

Poor Calaen, and nasty Berian! Oh, and poor Legolas. Anyway, updates are back to normal now, because I've sorted myself out, so it's all good. Anyway, the next chapter will be up on Halloween, so see you then!

Misto

x-x


	23. Chapter 23

Eight months had passed since Queen Findilan's death, six months since the day that Legolas had almost been blamed for the breakage of the vase. It was strange, Calaen reflected, as he sat in a tree overlooking the archery grounds, how time went so quickly when you were having fun, and so much more slowly when you were not.

He had tried more than a few times to frame Legolas for various things. He was crafty, and knew that he could not rush into anything. Occasionally his plan would work and his younger brother would be punished, but other times, the child would get away with whatever he had 'done'. Calaen wondered vaguely if today's little trick would work.

............................................................................................................

Legolas picked up his bow and stood patiently, though rather nervously, in line, waiting for his turn to fire ten arrows at a set target. He had recently been moved into a more advanced archery class, and although the other Elflings were only a few years older than him, he was still slightly wary of them. He had made no friends in this group. He _had_ tried, but had always been shunned.

"And Legolas, you're next," Imrathion, the weapons-master, called. No reply. "Legolas, wake up! You're next."

"Oh, sorry." The Prince ignored the giggles of the other Elflings, and stepped forwards to take the place of the little archer who had just had a turn.

Legolas pulled an arrow from his small quiver, and notched it on the bowstring. Keeping his eyes focused, not blinking, he pulled his arm back and waited a few heartbeats before releasing. His silver eyes narrowed as the arrow flew of course. That had never happened before.

'_Strange,' _he thought, but he did not hesitate to go about the process once more. He got an arrow, notched it, drew his arm back until the string was taut, and released. The same thing happened: the arrow flew directly over the target.

Legolas could hear the giggles and mutters behind him, and could feel the stare of many eyes on him as he loosed another arrow. This one fell three feet short of its destination, and the Prince made a soft noise of despair.

"Do not give up," Imrathion said. "You'll never get it unless you practice."

"But I can do it normally," Legolas protested. "I don't know why-

"Stop wasting time. Either try again or give up," was the sharp reply.

Legolas turned back to the target, took a deep breath to calm himself, and pulled another arrow from his quiver. But his nervousness in front of the other Elflings had made his hands tremble so much, that as he tried to notch it, it fell to the ground. More eruptions of giggles at this.

"No laughter," Imrathion snapped. "Legolas, over here. The rest of you carry on."

The Prince went over to the far side of the archery grounds, and looked up at his trainer nervously. "Yes, Imrathion?"

As the weapons-master regarded his student, his expression softened – all of his sharpness was merely a front. "Something must be troubling you, little one. It is rare that you miss a target."

"I'm sorry," Legolas muttered.

"Let me look at your arrows," Imrathion said suddenly. As the quiver was un-strapped, he pulled some towards him. After examining them for a moment, he frowned. "No wonder you were not shooting correctly. Legolas, when you first began archery, you were taught to _always_ check your equipment before shooting."

"Yes." As the Prince looked into Imrathion's eyes, he realised what was being implied. "But I did check them."

"Obviously not well enough," the Elf replied. "Look, these arrows have been feathered incorrectly. And these! Legolas, they are bent. How could that have escaped your notice?"

"But-

"There are no excuses for negligence," Imrathion said, some of his sharpness returning. "If you wish to be a warrior, you need to think like one, as well as act like one."

Legolas lowered his eyes, but snapped them up again almost immediately as movement in the trees caught his attention. He thought he glimpsed dark hair and a familiar, triumphant face. He could not be sure, though.

............................................................................................................

King Thranduil looked up in irritation as his study door was opened, expecting it to be yet more paperwork for him. It wasn't. "Ah Legolas, what are you doing here? I thought you were still in lessons."

"I was," the Prince said sullenly. "I was at archery."

"I see." Thranduil glanced out of the window, and his sharp eyes noticed that his son's class had not yet finished.

"I...I have a note for you," Legolas muttered. He stepped forwards and glared at the rolled up parchment for a moment, before throwing it onto his father's desk.

The Elven-king shot the child a sharp look, but said nothing as he un-rolled the parchment, and let his eyes skim over the words. Legolas stood in front of the desk, bow held loosely in one hand, foot tapping nervously on the floor. Eventually, Thranduil looked up.

"Do you know what is written here?"

"No, I...yes. Yes, I do know, and it's not my fault that I did it all wrong," Legolas suddenly exploded. "I thought I had checked my arrows properly, but I didn't. And I don't care any more, because I'm not going back!"

With that, he flung his bow across the room. It clattered to the floor, and the child glared furiously at it. Behind the desk, Thranduil's eyes flashed slightly, but he was calm as he leaned forwards and said, "First of all you are going to pick up that bow and put it somewhere so that it does not fall. Secondly, you will calm down. And thirdly, you will explain your attitude."

Legolas carried out the first order without a fuss, his cheeks burning. When he had leaned the bow against the wall, and made sure that it wouldn't fall, instead of going to stand in front of the desk, he went behind it and climbed onto his father's lap. He had grown only a little in the last few months, and it would be a long time before he was either too old or too big to stop doing this.

Thranduil sighed as Legolas pressed his face into his chest. "What has upset you? Is it just the fact that Imrathion sent you away from the lesson? That is nothing to worry about. It used to happen all the time to your brothers."

"They...they laughed at me," Legolas muttered.

"Who did?" Thranduil asked gently.

The Prince turned his face up, and sighed deeply. "The other Elflings. I didn't even shoot a single arrow correctly, and every time I missed, they laughed, and I heard some of them say that I was stupid, and I shouldn't be in their advanced class."

"Is this the first time they have done such things?" Thranduil asked, troubled.

"No. They don't like me very much," Legolas admitted. "I tried to make friends with them, but because I got moved up, they're all older and bigger than me. And they're better at archery. I should have stayed in the other class."

Thranduil shook his head as the miserable child sighed again. "Never put yourself down, ion-nin. Everyone has days when they cannot, for some reason, perform to the best of their abilities. Something must be troubling you, for this to happen."

"Imrathion said that, but it was the arrows," Legolas replied. "I don't mean it was their fault that I did it all wrong, but I don't understand. I checked them before I started, Ada. I always do. They were fine."

"So, what happened?"

"I was sorting through them when one of the girls came up to me. She asked me to do up the strap on her quiver because she couldn't reach. So, I did," Legolas said. "And then when I turned back, another Elfling was...oh."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Was what?" He had a good idea, though.

"He...his hand was moving away from my arrows, and when he saw me, he smiled, and he never does that," Legolas said quietly. "I understand now. He changed them. Ada, I should've realised."

As Thranduil embraced the sad child, his eyes flashed furiously. What right did those brats have to torment his son in such a way? The Elven-king curled his lip in disgust, making a mental note to speak with Imrathion about his students, and if the weapons-master did nothing, he would just have to speak to the children himself. May the Valar protect them if it came to that.

"Ada, what shall I do now?"

"Well, I think there is someone who would like to see you," Thranduil replied. "Imrathion's lesson will be finished soon enough, and the archery grounds will be free for a while. If you ask nicely, I am sure that this someone will help you practice."

Legolas tilted his head to one side in confusion, but as realisation dawned, his face brightened, and he leaped down to the ground. Grabbing his bow, he dashed over to the door, pausing only to say "Bye, Ada!"

............................................................................................................

Five minutes later, Legolas had reached his destination. Without even bothering to knock, he pushed open the door and ran into the room. "Airëlus!" he cried.

The Crown Prince turned around, and gasped as his youngest brother slammed against his chest. Smiling, he wrapped both arms around the boy, and kissed the top of his head. "Legolas, it is so good to see you again."

"I've missed you so much," the Elfling whispered. "You were gone for...for years."

"No, it was only a month," Airëlus laughed. "Not years, silly."

"Still, I wanted you here," Legolas sighed. "I know that you have to go out with the patrol because it is your job and you're one of the best warriors in Mirkwood, but it doesn't feel the same without you here. And you're gone for so long."

"That is because I am trusted by the Captain of the Guard to go further afield, even out of Mirkwood, and for longer periods of time," Airëlus replied. "I know you do not like it, Greenleaf, but you said it yourself: it is my job."

Legolas nodded. "I suppose."

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" Airëlus asked, setting his brother down on the bed so that he could change into cleaner clothes. "I would've come to see you myself, as soon as I got here, but I thought that you and Calaen had lessons today."

Legolas grinned as he swiftly explained what had happened. In his joy at his brother's return, he forgot to mention the fact that his arrows had been deliberately changed. As he pulled of his tunic, Airëlus' brow creased. That was strange; it was rare for the child to have a bad archery session.

"Anyway, Ada said that if I ask you nicely, you might help me practice," Legolas finished. He glazed up at the elder Prince through long lashes, and smiled. "Airëlus? Please will you help me practice?"

"I would love to, but I wanted to have a bath," the fair haired Elf replied. "It has been a while since I last washed properly, because the patrol is always on the move. I probably smell."

"You always do."

Airëlus narrowed his eyes slightly. "That, Legolas Greenleaf, is certainly _not_ being nice. You haven't got a hope of me helping you now."

.The Elfling's face fell, and he reached out to take his brother's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't actually mean it. I think that you smell very nice, like...well, nice things, and I love you a lot, and I'll do anything if you help me, because there's no-one else I want to help. Except Ada. That would be nice. But he's busy, and you're not. Please?"

"I was jesting with you," Airëlus said gently. "Of course I will help you. I don't suppose you're going to let me wash first though, are you?"

"Yes, if you must," Legolas shrugged. "But hurry up!"

............................................................................................................

Calaen leaned back against the tree trunk, and smiled as the younger Elves finished explaining how Legolas had been sent away from the archery lesson. He nodded in approval – having everyone witness his failure must have been a blow to the small Prince's pride.

"So, you did a good job," Calaen commented. "He was sent with a note to our father, you say?"

"Correct," one of the children replied.

"That is good. Yes, very good." The dark haired Prince smiled, and his eyes were bright. "He will not be able to worm his way out of this one. You see, I have been sent away from lessons before, and not once has my father let it pass."

"There's a first time for everything," one of the other Elves said quietly.

Calaen laughed derisively, though he broke off sharply when his gaze caught something else: Airëlus was walking onto the field. He would have been happy to see his elder brother, if not for the other who was with him: Legolas. The Prince growled low in his throat, and shot the children a look of venom, which sent them all running.

"Damn you, Legolas," he hissed.

Narrowing his eyes, Calaen got up and moved slowly and silently across the large field, not once taking his gaze from his two brothers. Airëlus was kneeling behind Legolas, occasionally tapping him on the shoulder, indicating that he should straighten up or relax his body. As he watched Legolas shoot five arrows perfectly, Calaen cursed under his breath.

But then he paused, and fixed a look of happiness on his face. "Airëlus, you're back" he cried, dashing forwards to his brothers.

Legolas glanced over and said nothing, but the Crown Prince jumped up and embraced Calaen, unaware of the emerald eyes staring malevolently over his shoulder to meet wary silver ones. He smiled, and clapped the dark haired Elf on the shoulder.

"When did you get back?" Calaen asked.

"Only about an hour ago," Airëlus replied. "How are you? You certainly look well."

"As do you," Calaen smirked. "Found yourself a maiden yet?"

"Oh yes, because there are so many females on patrol." Airëlus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, I have not. Nor do I want one, thank you very much."

"Oh please, you must have encountered at least one woman on your travels," Calaen pressed.

"Believe it or not, my heart does not lie with women," Airëlus replied. At the look on his brother's face, he shook his head in irritation. "I do not mean that, Calaen. I mean that my heart lies in battle, with knives and arrows, and the exhilaration of fighting. That is what I enjoy, so if you don't mind, will you leave it now? Anyway, why are you interrogating me? I asked the first question. How are _you_?"

"I...I..." Calaen sighed, and turned slightly so that Legolas was blocked out of the conversation. "I need to speak with you. Alone, if possible."

The Crown Prince arched an eyebrow, though his expression was troubled. "Is something wrong, Cal? Has something happened?"

"Please, this would be much better discussed alone," the other Elf said quietly.

"Airëlus, are you going?" asked Legolas, speaking for the first time since Calaen's arrival.

"You're alright on your own for a while, surely?" Airëlus said. "I helped you with your archery, as promised."

"But you haven't spent very much time with me," Legolas sighed.

Calaen suddenly moved forwards and put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, smiling gently. "Please, just let me and Airëlus have a few minutes. You have had your time with him, and now I want mine. That's fair, is it not?"

Legolas blinked in surprise – why was Calaen suddenly being nice? But then realisation dawned. How could he have forgotten? The dark haired Elf always played the loving brother when there was anyone else around.

"Don't be selfish, Legolas," Airëlus said.

The Elfling lowered his gaze and nodded. "Sorry," he muttered. He sensed his eldest brother moving away, and when he looked up once more, he looked into Calaen's sparkling green eyes. The other Elf smirked and followed Airëlus, leaving a wary Legolas behind.

............................................................................................................

**Jedi Gollum:** Oh yes, definitely LOTR stories. I'm not done being mean to these poor people yet!

**Legolas-gurl88:** Some of the Elvish names I made up myself, like Calaen and Airëlus, and a few others, but I just go onto google and type in Elvish names, so that helps a lot. Cool, you're doing a project on Merlin? I like Merlin – from what I've seen of him in books and films, he seems really nice! Anyway, I sent you an e-mail earlier, so hopefully I'll speak to you later!

**Elensar32:** Hello again! No, it doesn't sound strange that you like Calaen, cos I like him also, even though I know what he does in the future. No, you're right – Berian is from Rivendell, but he was originally from Mirkwood. You'll find out more about that as the story progresses!

**Lombadia Greenleaf** and **Kel**: Here's your update!

**Kathysidle: **Well, I won't say anything about chicken, cos I think I mentioned it in an e-mail I sent you, and also, people will start to think I'm crazy. Not that they don't think that already.

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yes, Berian and Calaen are very different, but something happens in a few chapters time to change things. I'll say no more!

**Utsuri: **Yay, a new reviewer! I have to say that you're the first person I know of to have read this before reading the other two. That's not a problem though, cos there's nothing you need to know from those two to understand this. I'm sorry for making you cry! I really don't mean to! Yeah, I can relate so much to Cal. Like, everything that he did in the chapter 21, they're my own experiences. Not being horrible to my brother, but the rest of it. Anyway, here's an update for you!

**Halimanya: **Yep, Berian is very evil! Yeah, I feel sorry for Legolas also, but possibly even more so for Calaen. Even though he's mean. How strange!

Anyway, that was that chapter, and the next update will be on Tuesday. Ugh, I have to go back to college tomorrow after having a week off. Oh, by the way, Happy Halloween! Why do people say that it's happy? I've never got that.

Anyways, see you soon!

Misto

x-x


	24. Chapter 24

"So, what is this all about?" Airëlus asked, sitting under a tree and looking up at his brother. "There was something I wished to discuss with Ada, but Legolas wanted me to come down here with him, so I had planned to spend a quarter of an hour here, and then go back to the palace. I do not wish to seem as though I don't care. I mean, I have not seen you for a long time, so I really do care, but this matter which must be discussed with Ada, is very important. Look at me: I'm going on and on."

"What do you have to speak of with Ada?" Calaen asked curiously.

Airëlus gazed up at his brother for a moment, but then dropped his gaze. There was something strange about his expression. "Oh, it is merely a problem with the patrols. One of the newer soldiers has been put in with me. As you know, my patrol is one of those which travel very far, and he is not ready for that."

"Oh, I see."

"Anyway, you wanted to talk, but I am the one doing most of that, it seems."

"What? Oh, yes." Calaen nodded, and sat beside his brother. "It is Legolas."

"Legolas? What is wrong?" Airëlus asked in alarm.

Calaen narrowed his eyes at the concern lacing the other Elf's voice, but tried to ignore it. "He has always been a lovely child, would you not say? He has never caused too many problems? Well, his behaviour is plummeting downwards, Airëlus. Has Ada not told you of this?"

"No. Surely it cannot be that bad?" asked the Crown Prince.

"Oh, it is. He will...let me give you one of many examples," Calaen replied. "He once broke a vase, and instead of admitting to it, he tried to blame me."

"Oh, everyone does that at some time," Airëlus said, waving his hand dismissively.

"He will rip out pages of books, and place them in my room," Calaen continued. "Or he will...knock over an ink bottle in the study, and when I am not looking, he will wipe the ink onto my clothes so that it looks as though I did it."

"Cal, do you really-?"

"Wait. He will knock over a pitcher of fruit cordial at the dining table when Ada isn't looking, and then he'll accuse me of doing it," Calaen cut in. "He will come in with mud all over his clothes, and then claim he was pushed. Or he once-

Airëlus reached across and clamped a hand over his brother's mouth. "Cal, Legolas is only a child. If he wants to protect himself from getting into trouble, what of it? You used to be the same."

Begin Flashback

King Thranduil and Queen Findilan stared in horror as they took in the state of Airëlus' room. The five year old Prince was dripping black ink everywhere, whilst his three year old brother stood covered in what seemed to be meadow-cream. Both Elflings were trying very hard not to laugh.

"What...why is....how...why?" Findilan spluttered.

"I wanted to look like Cal and he wanted to look like me," Airëlus announced. "So I put ink on my head to make my hair black, and he put cream on his so he would look different."

"Valar save me from insanity," Thranduil muttered.

"We were just about to have a cream fight," Calaen giggled.

As Airëlus' eyes sparkled, the King knelt down and looked into his son's ink-stained face. "Was this your idea?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," the Prince whispered, moving forwards and wrapping both arms around his father's neck. He flashed Findilan a cheeky grin, and had to work hard to hold back his laughter when he saw that she was doubled over.

Thranduil looked down at himself, and closed his eyes – now his robes were an interesting mix of black and white. He was about to say something, when he noticed what Calaen was doing. The child held a glob of cream in his hand, and was preparing to throw it at his brother.

"Put that down," Findilan said gently.

"No."

"Calaen...

"No."

"Calaen, drop it," Thranduil growled. When his son shook his head stubbornly, the King caught him by the hand, and slapped his wrist. Not hard, but still sharp enough for the boy to burst out crying.

"He's dying!" Airëlus exclaimed, as his brother sat down on the floor. "Ada, you killed him!"

Thranduil made a face at his elder son, before picking the younger one up, and hugging him close. He tried to ignore the cream being dripped everywhere. "I'm sorry, pen-neth, I'm sorry," he said softly.

"You hurt me," Calaen muttered.

"You should have done what Nana told you to," the Elven-king replied.

"Don't want to die." Calaen sniffed sadly, and wiped away some of his tears with his father's hair.

Findilan came forwards, and kissed the Elfling on the cheek. "You will not die. But I am afraid that Ada must now clean you and your brother up."

"There was one thing wrong with that sentence," Thranduil replied. "What about you? I cannot do it on my own. Look at the mess."

"I know. Have fun, meleth-nin," Findilan smiled. Her eyes sparkled as she ran from the room just in time to avoid being hit by some flying cream.

End Flashback

"Do you remember that?" Airëlus laughed. "After that day, you were so scared that Ada would slap you again, you would always do your best to stay out of trouble. You _always_ blamed me."

"What does that have to do with Legolas?" Calaen asked, irritated.

Airëlus sighed, and leaned forwards a little. "We both know that, a few days after Naneth passed on, Ada struck Legolas. I can remember the look you wore when you saw the red mark on his face."

"And?"

"Has it not occurred to you that maybe Legolas is afraid it will happen again?" Airëlus sighed, and stood up. "I must go now, but remember that you used to be exactly the same."

Calaen folded his arms across his chest, and glared after his brother. "Well, I am sorry for wasting your time," he snapped.

............................................................................................................

That night, a special dinner had been prepared for the Royal Family, seeing as how it was their first time together in a month. The talk had mostly been between Thranduil and Airëlus, though Calaen would occasionally contribute to whatever conversation they were having. Legolas sat in near silence. He had watched his brothers' discussion earlier that day, and although he had not heard them, he had an idea what the subject had been. Or rather, _who_ the subject had been.

"Ada, may I be excused from the table?" Calaen asked after a while.

"Of course, but take your brother with you," Thranduil replied. "It is getting late."

"Who? Legolas?"

The Elven-king's face remained impassive, but his eyes flickered in amusement. "No, I actually want you to take Airëlus to his room, and make sure he gets ready for bed. Of course I meant Legolas."

Airëlus laughed into his goblet of wine, but the other two Princes merely narrowed their eyes. Calaen nodded, and without saying a word, went over to the doors. Legolas reached across the table to touch his father's hand though, and the Crown Prince watched carefully, remembering what he had been told.

"Ada, I don't want to go," the Elfling said quietly. "Can I stay here?"

"No, go with Calaen," Thranduil replied.

"But-

"But nothing."

Legolas pouted, and flashed the two Elves dark glances, before turning on his heel and leaving the hall with Calaen. He didn't want to go with his elder brother. But then, nor did he wish to reveal his wishes for staying. He was _quite_ sure that he would not be believed.

He walked slightly in front of Calaen, wondering vaguely what was going to happen. Nothing good, that was certain. He chanced a glance up, and when his eyes met his brother's, he shuddered. He had never really noticed the emerald sparkle the bright orbs held, but now that he _was _aware of it, he didn't like it. Nor did he like the fact that he should be afraid under the elder Prince's gaze.

"What are you looking at?" Calaen asked in a low voice.

Legolas blinked and shook his head. "Nothing. I...I was just going to say that you don't have to come with me to my room. I know you don't want to."

"Ah, so little Legolas knows everything, does he?" Calaen sneered.

"No, but nor do you." the younger Prince said hotly, as the climbed up the stairs to their private rooms.

Calaen glanced down through narrowed eyes, and his expression was cold. "You are right: I do not know everything. But, believe me when I say there is a lot that I _do_ know. Not that it's any business of yours."

Legolas paused as they reached his bedroom door. He braved himself for what he was about to say. "Why do you even bother talking, Cal? You say things that you want me to ask about, even when you know full well I won't get any answers. It's not just stupid, it's...pathetic and immature. You should start acting your age."

"Watch your mouth," Calaen growled, reaching past Legolas to open the door. He pushed his brother forwards into the room, then went in himself.

"You don't have to be here," the Elfling said quietly.

"I know."

"So, why are you still here?"

"I have my reasons."

Legolas glared at his brother, and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "Whenever I go into your room, you always tell me to get out. I don't want you in here, Cal."

"Is that an order to leave?" the dark haired Elf asked.

"I.... Yes. Yes, it is."

Calaen's eyes flickered in amusement, and he shook his head. "No. You see, because I am older than you,_ I_ can give _you _orders, not the other way around. That is how the world works. You should learn that, Legolas. Why do you think you cannot tell Ada and Airëlus what to do?"

"Because they're older than me," was the quiet reply.

"Exactly. So, what makes you think it is right to treat me any differently?" Calaen demanded. "If I order you to jump, you don't question me. You ask, how high? And that is because I am older, and you should respect me. Also, _Elfling_, because I am so much older than you, I can even do...this!"

Legolas cried out as Calaen jumped forwards and grabbed the tip of his delicately pointed ear. It was a sensitive spot for Elves, and the dark haired Prince grinned when his brother tried to pull his arm away. Laughing, he tugged harder, digging his fingers into the soft skin.

"Let go of me!" Legolas tossed his head to the side, tears of pain springing to his eyes.

What Calaen did not expect, were a set of sharp teeth buried into his wrist. He immediately disengaged his hand from his brother's ear, but Legolas just bit down harder. The elder Elf hissed, and pushed the younger one in the chest, sending him tumbling back to land against the wall.

"You little brat!" Calaen snapped, eyes flashing. "You've made me bleed!"

"But Legolas was furious – he did not care. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" he screamed, slamming a fist on the floor. "Get out of my room _now, _and leave me alone! Get-!"

The door burst open and Airëlus rushed in, a look of alarm on his face. "Legolas, what is wrong? Has something-?"

"Look at what he did to me," Calaen cut in, shoving his wrist in front of his brother's face. "And you heard what he was screaming. Now do you see? Do you understand what I told you?"

Airëlus glanced down at Legolas, who was back on his feet now. "What have you done? How could you do something like that?"

"But-

"You cannot deny it," Calaen said incredulously. "The proof of what you did is right here in front of us all. This injury did not just miraculously appear."

"That's enough," the Crown Prince snapped. "Calaen, go to Ada. No, do not protest, just go to him right now!"

As his elder brother stormed out, Legolas shook his head in disbelief. "Airëlus, I didn't mean to..."

"Well, you did it," the fair haired Elf said coldly. He was silent for a moment, then he reached down and put a hand on the child's shoulder. "Why? Why did you do something like that? It is not like you."

"I...I wanted to get him away," Legolas whispered.

"What?"

Without answering, the younger Prince pushed his hair back over his shoulder, revealing his ear. There were marks where Calaen had dug his nails in, and the colour of the skin was a deep red. Airëlus exhaled deeply, and knelt down to pull his brother to him in a tight embrace.

"Did Calaen do that to you?" he asked quietly.

Legolas hesitated for a moment, before nodding once. "Yes."

Airëlus pulled back a little, and looked as though he was about to say something, but he was never given the chance, because the door suddenly flew open. King Thranduil stormed in, Calaen following just behind. Legolas flinched under his father's icy glare, and lowered his eyes to the ground.

"What," Thranduil snapped, "are you playing at?"

"I...I don't know," Legolas said helplessly.

"Tell him what you told me," Airëlus said gently.

Thranduil hissed impatiently as silence followed his eldest son's comment. "Well, Legolas? Are you planning on telling me any time soon, what you told your brother?"

"I...I only bit Calaen because he was hurting me," the young Prince muttered. "He wouldn't let go of me, and I only wanted to get him away."

"Indeed? I can see no life-threatening injuries," Thranduil remarked.

"Ada, Calaen is not exactly going to die," Airëlus said sharply.

After a warning look at the Crown Prince, the King glanced pointedly at Legolas. When the child indicated his ear, Thranduil reached down and roughly turned his son's face, so as to see it better. Legolas flinched at the harsh movement, but he remained silent, and kept his eyes averted.

"That is nothing," Thranduil said, jerking his hand away. Though, he still looked behind him, and asked, "Well? Did you do that?"

Calaen took a step forward, and nodded slowly. "I will not deny it. Yes, I did that. However, what Legolas says is not true. I told him to get ready for bed, but he got angry and told me to leave. When I said I was merely doing what you asked of me, he leaped towards me, and sank his teeth into my wrist."

"No, I-

"Silence!" Thranduil snapped. He motioned to his other son. "Go on."

"I did not want to, but I thought that if I caught him where he is most sensitive, he would be forced to let go," Calaen said regretfully. "Legolas, I am so sorry."

"No." Thranduil shook his head. "Do not apologize to him. It should be he who is sorry, not you."

"But that's not fair!" Legolas cried out. "Ada, he's lying. It wasn't like that."

"_You do not think this is fair?" _ Calaen thought. _"Life isn't fair."_

"It is your brother I am inclined to believe here," Thranduil said coldly. "He knows better than to act in such a way, and his levels of maturity are far higher than yours. I do not know why you chose to do something as childish as this, and clearly I am not going to find out. So, apologize. Now."

"But-

"Do it!"

Legolas looked at his father for a moment longer, before flicking his gaze over to his brother. "I...I'm sorry, Calaen."

"That's alright," the dark haired Elf nodded.

"Good. You two can leave now," Thranduil said to his elder children. "Legolas, go to bed right now; I do not wish to hear any arguing. And if you are not in bed when I check, which could be at any time, then there will be trouble."

With that, the Elven-king turned and swept from the room. He felt a little regretful at having to be so harsh with his son, but he would not show it. Calaen hesitated for a moment before leaving, though Airëlus knelt down and embraced his youngest brother as soon as the others were out of the room.

"Do as Ada says," he whispered. "This will all be forgotten by tomorrow."

Legolas closed his eyes as Airëlus kissed him on the cheek, and silently left the room. The Elfling sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest, finally able to let his tears fall, without anyone knowing.

............................................................................................................

Fifteen minutes later, King Thranduil re-entered Legolas' room, though this time much more quietly than the last. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, and let his gaze rest on the Elfling lying in bed. Sighing, he moved further into the room until he was beside Legolas, and reached down to touch his son's cheek. It was damp with tears.

'_Then, why did you do something like that to Calaen?' _Thranduil thought. _'You must have known he would tell me, and you definitely knew I would not let it pas. I always try to understand you, yet always I fail.'_

Sighing again, the Elven-king leaned down, and gently kissed his Elfling on the forehead. Brushing some stray hair from the child's face, he smiled. "I love you, Legolas, no matter what."

With that, Thranduil turned and left in silence. As he closed the door once more, the figure in the bed stirred. "I love you too, Ada," Legolas whispered.

.............................................................................................................

**Jedi Gollum: **Yeah, I wouldn't bother writing anything but LOTR. Not because I don't like anything else, just because I like LOTR.

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Yep, I cried when I wrote that part!

**Halimanya:** I love Legolas whether he's little or not! And yeah, Cal definitely needs to get his act together, I totally agree with you there!

**Arienis: **I'm glad that you liked my other story!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yeah, I'm not surprised!

**Legolas-gurl88: **Ha ha, Airëlus and Legolas could set up a circus, and do flying tricks! No, I have never read those books, but they sound interesting! Oh good, you updated? I'll check that out!

**Kel: **Yeah, I couldn't keep Airëlus away for long!

**Nautika: **My pleasure!

It's November 5th! Happy Bonfire Night, if you celebrate it. Personally, I think it is one of the stupidest things in the history of British celebrations. I mean, why would you want to celebrate the day someone tried to blow up Parliament? I've always wondered. Oh well.

We had fireworks in our back garden, and one of them went wrong. Normal fireworks go up, right? This one decided to be different, and went sideways. So I, not being a huge fan of fireworks anyway, dived back into the house. It was completely dark. And because it was dark, I did not see the vacuum cleaner in front of me. So I fell right over it, and all you could hear was the exploding firework, my family outside trying to scramble for cover. And then...silence, which was broken only by me, saying in a very small voice, 'ow.'

Anyway, the chapter that a lot you have been waiting for (I won't say which one cos I know there's some people who don't know what happens) is coming up...not on Sunday, cos that's the next one, but on Tuesday. So, see you soon!

Misto

x-x


	25. Chapter 25

The sun had not even begun to show her face, when Legolas sat up in bed. Why should he bother continuing in his quest for sleep? It was hopeless. All he could think about was what had taken place with Calaen, and all he had been able to do was lie in the darkness with so many confused thoughts in his mind. Sighing, the Prince climbed out of bed, and made his way across to the door.

As he crept down the dimly lit corridor, Legolas shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, tearing his gaze away from the flickering shadows on the walls. Normally at night-time, he would have his woollen blanket with him. He was, after all, only an Elfling. But he was once again trying to stop using it, after a particularly scathing comment made by Calaen.

When Legolas reached his brother's room, he pushed open the door and tiptoed in. The Crown Prince lay in bed on his side, one arm serving as an extra pillow under his head. The other arm was stretched out, just inviting the child to crawl under it, and cuddle up to him. So, that is exactly what Legolas did.

Airëlus stirred slightly, but he was a heavy sleeper, and did not wake. Still walking the road of dreams, he pulled the Elfling closer to his body. Legolas smiled and kissed his brother on the cheek, before lying still to bury his face in the muscular chest. Comforted by the other presence, sleep found him. But, so did something else.

Legolas blinked as he realised where he was: at the top of a very tall and familiar tree. But when he saw who stood in front of him, he was overcome with joy, and a smile spread across his face as he cried, "Nana!"

Findilan inclined her head, and smiled gently. "Greenleaf, it does my heart good to see you again, after all this time. Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did. I missed you so much." Legolas made to go forwards to hug his mother, but hesitated as she stepped away. "Don't you want to see me, Nana? Why are you going?"

"I want to see you more than anything, but now is not the time," Findilan whispered. Even as she said the words, she moved further away. Yet, it seemed as though she was floating, not walking.

Legolas' eyes widened as he realised what was going to happen if he didn't do something. "Nana, you're going to fall off the branch if you don't stop moving. No, Nana!"

"I love you, Greenleaf," Findilan breathed.

Mother and son locked eyes for only a brief second, before the Queen took the last, fatal step. She fell. Legolas threw himself to the edge of the branch, screaming. Making a sobbing noise in the back of his throat, he closed his eyes tightly. He had lost his Nana. Again.

"No!" Legolas gasped, sitting up with a start.

His movement woke his brother, and it took all of Airëlus' power to keep from swearing violently as he also sat up. Pushing his hair off his face, he asked coldly, "Where did you come from?"

"I...I couldn't sleep, so I came in here," Legolas whispered, trying to still the trembling of his body. "I couldn't sleep."

"Well, just because you're suffering, it does not mean that everyone else must," Airëlus huffed, lying back down and pulling the covers over his head. Put one hundred Orcs in front of this Elf, he could handle it calmly. Wake him in the early hours...well, no-one did that.

"I'm sorry," Legolas muttered. "I had a dream."

Airëlus merely reached out one hand, and pulled a pillow over his already covered head. "Stay in here and have some more dreams if you must. But have them quietly, else I'll tie you up in one of these pillow cases, take you out to the forest, and leave you there. For ever. Now, goodnight."

Legolas watched the form of his brother for a moment, before making to get off the bed and leave. But then he stopped as tears stung his eyes. With a soft noise of despair, he pulled one of the pillows out from under Airëlus' head, and hit him with it. Hissing, the Crown Prince sat up and grabbed his brother by the wrist. Though, concern flitted across his face when he noticed the glistening of the child's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered, "but I just don't want to be by myself."

"Was it the dream?" Airëlus asked. When the little Prince nodded, he sighed, and flipped some more hair from his face. "Go on, then."

"I...I saw Nana," Legolas managed to choke out, before bursting into floods of tears.

Airëlus winced, and drew his brother close. "Oh Greenleaf, I am sorry for being so inconsiderate and un-thoughtful. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Nana fell," the Elfling sobbed.

"Alright, alright." Airëlus sighed once more as he stroked his brother's hair. "Ai Legolas, you are shaking. This cannot be the first dream you have had like this, though. In fact, I can remember that you used to have them."

"But I haven't had any for a long time, and this was the first one for a few months," Legolas whispered. "I didn't like them before, and I still don't like them now, because I have to see Nana falling all over again."

The Crown Prince frowned, and turned Legolas' face up to his. "And is there any reason why you have started having them again?"

"Yes, but I...no," the Elfling muttered.

"Legolas..."

"I think because I stopped sleeping with my blanket again, the one that Nana made for me. It always used to make me feel better," Legolas said shyly. He blushed, and turned his face back into his brother's chest.

"But why did you stop sleeping with it again? I thought Ada explained that while you had it near, you would not have these dreams," Airëlus said in confusion.

"Someone said that it made me look like even more of a baby than I already am," Legolas answered. "I don't want people to think that I'm a baby."

"Oh, you're not," Airëlus said gently. "Who told you that?"

"Legolas..."

"Can't remember."

"I'll tell Ada, and he can find out."

Legolas looked up, and sighed. "Don't do that. Do you promise not to get angry with the person, if I tell you? Promise, Airëlus."

"I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Alright. Well, it was...it was Cal," the Elfling whispered.

Airëlus inhaled sharply. "Calaen said that to you?"

"Yes, but you promised me," Legolas replied in alarm. "Please, don't be angry with him."

"Oh, I am not angry with him," Airëlus said grimly. He shook his head as the child's face lit up hopefully. "No, Legolas, I am not angry with him – I am furious with him. Just wait until I get my hands on him tomorrow. He'll wish that he never-

"No!" Legolas said desperately. "Airëlus, you told me once that you would never break a promise. Don't do that now, please don't."

The Crown Prince pressed a finger to his brother's lips. "Hush. Very well, if this is what you wish, then all I will do is have a few quiet words with him. There is nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"If you say so," Legolas replied, though his expression was still one of great worry.

"I do." Airëlus smiled and lay back down, holding Legolas in his strong arms. "I must speak to Ada first thing tomorrow, but then I will see Calaen, alright?"

"Why do you have to see Ada?"

"It is nothing for you to worry about," the Crown Prince replied, though he felt sick even as he said the words. "Sleep now. I cannot promise you will not have any more dreams, but if you do, at least you will not be alone."

"Goodnight," Legolas said quietly.

"I actually think it is the morning," Airëlus replied. "A few hours after midnight."

"Oh."

The fair haired Elf stared up at the dark ceiling for a moment, and then closed his eyes in despair. He was nervous. In fact, he was petrified of what could be revealed when he spoke to his father. But it had to be done. He had spent the past few weeks living with the possible knowledge that.... Airëlus immediately cut himself off mid-thought. He did not want to think about it.

............................................................................................................

The next morning – or rather, some hours later – Airëlus was out of bed and getting dressed. As he did up the clasps on his tunic, he looked down at Legolas, who was still asleep. If what he had heard, and was even beginning to suspect himself, was true, then surely the family would be torn apart.

'_We only just defeated the pain that came with Naneth's passing,' _the Crown Prince thought bitterly, as he pulled on his leather boots and drew a brush through his hair at the same time. _'How can we possibly get through this? I can only pray that it is not true.'_

Taking a deep breath, Airëlus left the room.

............................................................................................................

King Thranduil withdrew his hand from the book he had been reaching for when he heard a knock on his study door. "Come in," he called out, as he wondered who could want him at such an early time – it was only the eighth hour of the morning.

He smiled though, when he saw who it was. "Airëlus, what are you doing up? I expected you to still be in bed. After all, you only returned from patrol yesterday."

"I know, but I must speak with you right now, before Calaen and Legolas wake," the Prince replied. "I wanted to get this over with yesterday, but I was not given the chance. To be honest with you, I am afraid. I do not really wish to do this, but I know that I must, because I need answers."

"What's wrong?" Thranduil asked in alarm.

Airëlus leaned forwards, and rested his head in his hands. "You know that this past month, I was away with my patrol. Well, I heard things, Ada. Around the fire, when we made camp at night. There were whisperings between the other soldiers, rumours. They always fell silent when they realised I was near, but I heard all that was said. I did not want to believe them, but I cannot rest until I have your confirmation that they are not true."

"I am sorry, but you have lost me," Thranduil said softly. "What are these rumours that you speak of?"

This was it, there was no going back. Airëlus took a deep breath, and said, "Calaen is not your son."

The Elven-king's heart thudded painfully against his chest, and he could feel it quicken. But despite this, his face remained impassive. "Why should anyone think that?"

"The time for falsehoods is over," Airëlus replied. "If there is anything to know, I would hear it now, from you."

Thranduil held his son's gaze for a moment, and nodded slowly. "Very well. I will tell you all that I can. You must be prepared, though, for what you are about to hear."

"Tell me," Airëlus said in a low voice.

............................................................................................................

Calaen walked down the corridor to his father's study, carrying a book that he had finished, and had to return. It had been very interesting, actually, more so than he had first of all thought it would be. He had never been particularly keen on the history of Middle Earth, but had found the tale of the Fall of Fingolfin quite captivating.

'_Of course,' _the Prince thought, _'Fingolfin had no hope of defeating Morgoth. He must have known that even as he challenged him. But then, I suppose that-_

He trailed off mid-thought as he reached the door of his father's study. His sharp Elven hearing caught what was being said inside, and as he heard his own name mentioned, and the words that followed after, Calaen's green eyes widened in horror.

............................................................................................................

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yeah, I have seen 'Westside Story'. I saw it in my music class when I was at school, and it was really fun because we had to get into groups and perform songs from it! Well, I am glad that you find my misfortune funny! Although, I would probably have laughed if it was someone else who had fallen over the vacuum cleaner!

**Princess Vespa: **Yeah, we have Halloween out here, but we don't celebrate it as much as people do in America. This one time, my friend dressed up as a pumpkin. It was so funny!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Hee hee, I'm playing evil mind games! Hmm, my computer doesn't recognise the word 'hee'. That's stupid. Stupid computer.

**Jedi Gollum: **Yes, I think that he is nice also. Most of the time, as you said. And yes, Cal is very mean. But I still feel sorry for him. How strange.

**IwishChan: **Oh yes, Airëlus will definitely keep on protecting Legolas! He's not mean, like Calaen!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Thranduil isn't aware of what Calaen is doing, because when Calaen is alone with Legolas and when he isn't, it's like he is a different person. Or Elf. So, no-one except Legolas sees the real side to Calaen, because he is so good at hiding it. Also, it hasn't occurred to Thranduil that Calaen is telling a pack of lies. I don't think that any parent would want to think that of their child, especially one of Calaen's age, because they're expected to tell the truth. But Legolas is young, and although Thranduil is disappointed that he has been behaving in such a way, he doesn't think that it's anything more than bad behaviour. Whew, that was a long reply!

**Elven Kitten: **Hee hee, I had a really funny image of you whacking Calaen, and him going, 'hey!' Yeah, that would be funny!

**Kel: **Oh no! Legolas can't be eaten by Wargs! No, that would definitely not be a good thing.

**Utsuri: **Airëlus is very close to both of his brothers. Calaen, because they're quite close in age, and Legolas because he's so young. So, it will be very hard for him in the future, at times when he has to judge who has done something wrong. There will be times when he believes Legolas, but then, there'll also be times when he has to believe Calaen. And yeah, like you said, everyone will believe Calaen, because he's older than poor Legolas. And the answer to your question, is yes. If you think this is bad, wait until you read 'A Brother's Jealousy' and 'Captured by the Past'. Although I have to admit that although he stays as sadistic as ever throughout those two stories, something happens at the end of 'Captured'. I'm saying no more!

**Halimanya: **Thank you very much for your sympathy concerning the incident with the vacuum cleaner! It was very tragic, and I'm still getting over it. Right, ok. I'm not that sad!

Oh dear. Well, here it is. I know that loads of you have been waiting impatiently for this to happen, so you don't have to wait any longer. Well, I suppose you have to wait until, Tuesday to find out what happened. By the way, the whole of the next chapter will be set in the past. Thought I'd better tell you so you don't get confused.

Misto

x-x


	26. Chapter 26

Findilan watched her friend, and hid a smile behind a slender hand as he lost his footing on the tree he was climbing, and fell back down to the ground. The young man looked up at her and grinned, before flopping down to sit on the leafy forest floor. The Queen sighed, and went to sit beside him.

"Why did you drag me out here?" she asked. "If it was to prove that humans have appalling agility when it comes to trees, you need not have bothered – I knew that already."

The man, Deorfel, snorted derisively, but his green eyes twinkled. He had arrived in Greenwood a month ago, after being found on the borders by Elven soldiers. He had been badly injured, near death, and if not for the skill of his healers, would surely not have survived. But he had, and whilst recovering, had been visited often by Findilan.

Many laughed to see them together, for they were a very contrasting pair. She was slender, with long fair hair that hung loosely down to her waist, and silver eyes that laughed every minute of the day. Deorfel, though, was muscular and well-built, with shoulder length hair the colour of coal. But despite their differences, and the fact that one was immortal and the other mortal, they had become very close.

The Queen bit down on her lip, and shot the man a sideways glance. "Have you...have you ever been in a position where you feel...shut out sometimes by one whom you love?" she asked slowly. When Deorfel raised an enquiring eyebrow, she waved her hand impatiently. "You know who it is that I speak of."

"King Thranduil."

Findilan sighed, but nodded. "I love him with all of my heart, and I know that he loves me, but sometimes I wish that he would lay aside his work and make time for his family. I know it is easier said than done, but it would be nice to spend more than just a few hours in the evening with him."

"He does have a lot of work," Deorfel said quietly. "His advisors help little, from what you have told me."

"I understand that, but surely it is not too much to take some time for his wife and infant son?" Findilan sighed, and rested her head in one hand. "I have all that I want from him, except one thing: time."

Deorfel was silent. Now seemed like a good time – no, the perfect time – to tell the Elven-queen his feelings. On the occasions he saw Thranduil and Findilan together, he felt ill, but now hearing all this, he wondered at the possibilities. Was there a chance that...? Yes, he would tell her everything. Right now, before he lost his nerve.

"Fin, have you ever thought that there is someone else who can give you what your husband cannot?" he asked gently.

"What are you suggesting?" Findilan replied.

Deorfel sighed, and touched a hand to the Queen's shoulder. "Thranduil has the looks, wealth and the long life. He even has a title before his name. But despite all that, he cannot give you what you want: time. You said it yourself."

"That is through no fault of his own," Findilan said sharply. "And maybe he does not give me as much time as I would like, but I have everything else I could want from him, thank you very much. Now, if you do not mind, I must return to the palace."

As the Elven-queen got to her feet and began walking away, Deorfel closed his eyes. "I love you!"

Findilan froze in her tracks, and turned slowly. "What?"

"I love you. There, it is out," Deorfel replied. "When I first laid eyes on you, my heart nearly stopped beating. I have been well enough for two weeks now, to return to my own home. Why do you think I remain here? It is because, from the moment we met, I knew that I loved you. That love only grows as each day passes."

"Why are you saying this?" Findilan breathed.

"Because it is the truth," Deorfel replied. "Coming here to Greenwood was the best thing I have ever done, because it led me to one whom I feel nothing but love and adoration for. You are all that keeps me here, Findilan."

The Queen shook her head in disbelief. "What are you saying?"

"Come away with me," Deorfel said earnestly. "You can take little Airëlus, and you can both come with me. Not only will I be able to give enough to merely satisfy you, but I will give _all_ the time you want."

"Are you suggesting that, not only do I leave my husband, but that I take his son away from him also?" Without waiting for an answer, Findilan slapped the man across the cheek. Eyes flashing, she turned on her heel. Deorfel pulled her back, though.

"I am sorry," he said desperately. "That was wrong of me to say something like that. I know you would never take Airëlus away from Thranduil, and I know you would never leave either of them."

"I wish you had not told me this," Findilan whispered.

"But I have, and like my feelings, that cannot be changed." Deorfel took the Queen's hands, and gazed into her eyes. "You see, love is an emotion too strong to just be got rid of. You must accept that I love you, with all my heart."

"And I love Thranduil," Findilan breathed.

Deorfel smiled gently, and trailed his fingers down the Elf's smooth cheek. "I love ale, but that doesn't stop me drinking your Elvish wine when the fancy takes me." He sighed when the Queen did not laugh. "I have made a decision, and so must you. I will be leaving tomorrow, though it may be against the wishes of my heart. Change your mind, and I will stay. If not, I fear that this may be our last meeting."

"You were my friend," Findilan said softly. "I have known you for such a short space of time, but I feel as though I have known you for years. I love you. But not in the way that you claim to love me."

"Then I cannot stay," Deorfel sighed.

Tears filled Findilan's eyes, and as the man turned, she caught his arm. "Wait," she whispered. "You cannot leave."

"I must," he replied. "But you know what will keep me here."

Findilan looked up. Their eyes met, and the gaze was held for a few moments. But then she looked away. He nodded once and turned to go. But again, as before, she caught his arm and pulled him back. He raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question that did not need to be voiced.

"I cannot watch you walk away," Findilan said quietly. As she moved her face closer to his, she closed her eyes tightly. But that did not stop tears falling from under her dark lashes. They were tears of confusion. Tears of helplessness.

............................................................................................................

Queen Findilan lay in bed, with two year old Airëlus held tightly against her breast, helpless to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. Her head was filled with thoughts of what she had done with Deorfel earlier that day, and even though she tried hard to erase the vivid memories, she could not. She kept trying to convince herself that it was all a horrible nightmare, but of course, she knew otherwise.

"Nana," said Airëlus quietly, reaching up and touching her cheek. When his tiny hand came away damp, he blinked in surprise. "Nana!"

"Yes," Findilan whispered. She buried her face against the baby, and sighed, breathing in his sweet smell. "Oh Airëlus, if only you knew what I have done. Maybe one day you will. I wonder what you will think of me then."

The infant Prince pulled some strands of his mother's fair hair into his mouth, and started sucking at them. Why he enjoyed chewing other people's hair, no-one knew. Still, he was only a baby, and there was plenty of time for him to grow out of this particular habit.

"You do not know what I am telling you," Findilan said quietly. "But it is nice, knowing that you will not judge me, or think any less of me." Her son's face remained impassive.

Just then, the oak doors to the chamber opened, and King Thranduil came in. He had already discarded his formal robes – he didn't really like them anyway, but his advisors fussed if he did not look the part as well as act it. Findilan swiftly wiped at her eyes, and when she looked up at the other Elf, she managed to smile. Though, it was hard.

"You are earlier than normal," she said softly.

"Yes. I was trying to properly word a letter, but I lost interest, so I left my advisors to do it." Thranduil shook his head slightly. "I am sure they will get me back tomorrow, with lots more work."

"Was it an important letter?" Findilan asked.

The King shook his head, and sat on the edge of the bed. He smiled as Airëlus crawled into his arms. "No, it was not. You know, if there is one bad thing about having my father's councillors to aide me, it is that they still look on me as though I am but a child."

"Why, what did they say this time?"

Thranduil shrugged as he un-did the clasps on his outer tunic. "The same as usual: concentrate on the task in hand; don't let your attention wander; you should spend more time on this work; you-

"Do you think that taking the advice of those councillors is always such a good idea?"

The Elven-king looked up, surprised at the edge to his wife's voice. "Well, they...they help me, Fin. My father tried to prepare me for this, but I never expected it to come so soon. Consequently, I listened to very little of what I was taught about ruling a kingdom. I did not think I would come back from the Last Alliance with one less parent. But I did. And I was thrown in at the deep end. Even now, a few years later, I still find the work too much at times."

"I know you do," Findilan replied.

Thranduil put Airëlus down on the bed so he could pull his tunic off. He dropped it next to the child, though it quickly ended up on the floor. "Thank you," he muttered, picking it up and throwing it once more onto the bed.

"No!" Airëlus giggled as he pushed the tunic back down onto the floor.

"You are always a help," Thranduil said, shaking his head.

Again, he picked it up and dropped it onto the bed. Airëlus smiled and threw it across the room. But the Elven-king caught it, and deposited it on his son's head. Findilan laughed quietly, though her heart was not in it, as the Elfling struggled to get free. She sighed, and turned her head away.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil asked softly.

Tears instantly filled her eyes as she heard the concern in his voice, but she nodded vaguely. "I am fine, just a little tired." She looked back, and nodded towards Airëlus. "Now, are you going to rescue your son, or not?"

"No, I thought he could stay in there," Thranduil replied.

Both Elves laughed as there was a small cry of protest from inside the tunic. Airëlus certainly did not say very much, but he understood more than he let on. Smiling, Thranduil took pity on the child, and rescued him. The little Prince smiled, and tugged on his father's hair.

"Thank you Ada," he whispered.

Thranduil nodded, and watched his son crawl under the bed covers. "I suppose he is sleeping in here tonight? Fair enough."

As the Elven-king put out the lamp and also got into bed, Findilan propped herself up on one elbow and said quietly, "Can I ask you a question? You may think it ridiculous, but I still want to ask. Do you...do you love me?"

Thranduil's head snapped up again even before it had touched the pillows. In the darkness, his eyes flashed in disbelief. "Of course I think it is a ridiculous thing to ask" Why should you even need to think something like that?"

"Do you?" Findilan pressed.

"Yes, with all my heart." Thranduil sounded amazed, and he looked it, too. "I love you, Fin. I always will."

The Elven-queen nodded, and reached across Airëlus' small body to hug her husband. Burying her face in his chest, she whispered, "I just wanted to hear you say the words. I love you too, no matter what happens."

............................................................................................................

A few weeks had passed since the night when Queen Findilan had asked – in Thranduil's eyes – the most unnecessary question to ever leave her lips. The Elven-king was lying on his bed, glad to finally have a much needed break from his councillors, who had decided that today was the day to try and drive him to insanity by their constant bickering.

Just when he was contemplating going back to see if any of the advisors had begun killing each other in his absence, there was a shuffling noise from out in the corridor. His eyes narrowed slightly as a piece of folded parchment was passed under the gap between the door and the floor.

Wondering who could possibly have the audacity to do something like that outside the Royal Family's private rooms, Thranduil got off the bed and went to pick the note up. He recognised the curling script to be that of the human. What was his name? Ah, Deorfel, that was it.

As the Elven-king began to read, he did not even think about what he might find out.

............................................................................................................

Queen Findilan pushed open her chamber doors, and blinked in surprise when she saw who was in there. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting to attend."

"I did," Thranduil nodded. "But I have a letter for you. I thought it might be something important."

"Oh?" Findilan took the parchment from her husband's hand, and glanced down. She recognised the script, and her heart sped as fear washed over her.

"Are you not going to read it?" Thranduil asked softly.

The Queen looked up and smiled, though her mouth was dry, and she was sure that the heat rising on her face would give her away. "I am sure it is nothing important. I can read it later."

"Ah, but I think you should know what it says." Without waiting for a reply, Thranduil pulled the letter back, and flipped it open. His hands shook as he began reading out loud, but he managed to keep his voice steady.

_Findilan,_

_ I know I am taking a risk doing this, but I must see you. Now that I am apart from you, my heart is sore, and it was only when we were together that I could be at ease. Maybe you do not feel the same, but just having your lips against mine was enough. Will you come to my chamber? Please, do not keep me waiting. _

_Deorfel_

Findilan slowly raised one hand to her mouth, and tried to still her heavy breathing. He knew. Thranduil knew everything. But she did not care what the consequences for herself could be. She knew that she deserved whatever she got. Tears filled her eyes, and a few escaped.

"Why?" Thranduil asked in a low voice. "How could you do something like this? I...I don't understand."

That was too much for Findilan. She sank down onto the bed, and rested her head in her hands as she sobbed, "I am sorry. I am so sorry."

"Don't!" Thranduil spat. "I did not ask to hear an apology! All I want to know is why you have betrayed me. We are bound, Findilan, for ever. Did our love mean so little to you?"

"It wasn't like that," the Queen whispered.

"Oh, so you are just an innocent victim," Thranduil nodded as though in understanding.

Findilan took a deep breath to try and calm herself. "He was going to leave. I was afraid to let him go. He was my friend."

"So you decided to throw yourself at him?" The Elven-king swiped at his glistening eyes, and sat in a chair opposite the bed. "Not one of your best ideas, but still."

"I deserve nothing from you," Findilan said quietly. "But will you hear me out?"

"Speak."

The Queen drew in another breath, preparing herself. "I...I found a friend in Deorfel. The only company I had during the day was little Airëlus, and although I love him dearly, I wanted someone whom I could hold a conversation with. And then Deorfel came along."

"It looks to me like you found more than friendship in him," Thranduil said coldly.

"He made me feel special, because he was always there for me, never having to rush off to do any work. He was never busy, and had so much time." Findilan dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "You see, I was not used to that. When he told me he would be leaving, I was afraid. Afraid that I would be loosing a close friend."

Thranduil snapped his eyes up, and nodded slowly. "Now I understand. It is because of me that you did this. It is because I could not give you the time of day. But I still do not understand. Why could you not have told me?"

"I was afraid you would feel that it would get in the way of your work." Findilan flinched as the other Elf's eyes flashed. "But I wish I _had_ spoken to you. I never wanted this. If I could turn back time-

"You can't!" Thranduil snapped. "What's done is done, and no matter how much either of us want to re-write the past, we cannot."

Findilan stood, and looked down at the Elven-king. "What happens now? You must hate me, and I do not blame you. I will go. It will be easier for you if I am not here, even though it will pain me to leave."

As his wife turned, Thranduil reached up and caught her hand. "You were never alone, Fin. Never. I know I have precious little time in the day, but all you had to do was tell me how you felt. I would have done something about it. Do you really think you mean so little to me?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Findilan whispered.

Thranduil paused for a moment, before standing also. "I never dreamed anything like this would ever happen. But it has. How am I supposed to get through it without you? And what of Airëlus? He needs both of us."

"But I thought..."

"When first I read the letter, I was angry," Thranduil said. "But now I know that you did this for a reason. I love you. But the question is, do you still love me?"

"I never stopped loving you," Findilan breathed.

Thranduil visibly relaxed, and he closed his eyes as he pulled the Queen close to him. He really had been afraid for a few horrible minutes – afraid that all the love they shared had been fading right in front of him. Exhaling deeply, he moved away slightly, preparing himself for what he had to do next.

"Where are you going?" Findilan asked.

"To see Deorfel."

"And what...what will you do?"

Thranduil tried to ignore the trembling of his wife's voice, as he calmly replied, "I will do what I must."

............................................................................................................

Deorfel lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. What he and Findilan had done, was wrong. He knew that. What he also knew, was that no matter how much he loved the Elven-queen, the feelings were not returned. She had only done what she had, to save her friendship. Yet in doing so, had put her marriage at risk.

"But I love her," the man murmured. "Feelings like this cannot be forgotten."

As there came a knock on the door, Deorfel sat up and smiled. It was her. She must have read his letter and come straight here, to his chamber. But, when he went across and went to let her in, he got a shock. It was not Queen Findilan – it was King Thranduil.

"My...my Lord," Deorfel said in surprise.

"Good afternoon," the Elf nodded. "May I come in? Or are you busy? Or maybe expecting someone?"

"No, not at all." Deorfel stepped back a little, to allow Thranduil in. He closed the door and waited for a moment before turning around. He began to say "what can I help you with?" but was cut off mid-sentence as a fist slammed into the side of his head.

Thranduil smiled in grim satisfaction as the man was sent flying into the wall. As Deorfel groaned, the Elven-king stepped forwards and grabbed the front of his shirt, only to pull him back up and throw him to the opposite side of the wall. Again, the mortal crashed into the wall, and he sank down it until he was sitting on the floor.

"Did you really think you would not be found out?" Thranduil hissed.

"What have you done to Findilan?" Deorfel coughed, holding a hand to his chest.

The Elf's eyes flashed in anger. "You think I would do something like this to her? How dare you? I love her, which is more than can be said for you. I know what you did."

"I had to have her," Deorfel spat, and his green eyes glinted. "I love her too much. If I did not have her, then-

"Your lust would be unsatisfied," Thranduil sneered, turning away from the man. "It was not love – it was merely an infatuation."

Deorfel snarled in rage, and leaped to his feet to pull the King back around to face him. His arm shot out, but Thranduil had anticipated this. He grabbed his wrist, and pushed him away again. Green eyes locked onto blue, and the animosity in the room was so evident, it was almost painful.

"It was not an infatuation," Deorfel snapped.

"But if it was, you would not have bribed her," Thranduil replied. "You would have respected all that she said to you, and you would have left her."

"Where she would be alone, deserted by you," Deorfel retorted.

If he expected a reaction, he did not get one. The Elven-king merely shook his head slightly. "I pity you. All this time, you have been thinking that she was alone. She wasn't – _you_ were. What family do you have? What friends? You had no-one until her, and she made you feel wanted. Would you really have been able to walk away? Could you have left, even if she had refused to give herself to you?"

The man hesitated for a moment, but then shook his head once. "No."

Thranduil was silent, and he sighed deeply. "You are banished from Greenwood, Deorfel, under pain of death. If you are caught in my Realm, you will be killed without hesitation. Never have I done something like this, and I wish I did not have to start now. But there is no other way."

"What of Findilan?" Deorfel hissed.

"She will respect my decision," Thranduil replied. "_That's_ love."

............................................................................................................

Two long weeks had gone by since that day. And although Findilan _did_ respect her husband's decision, it had not prevented her from shedding a few tears upon finding out. She was still trying to re-build her life with Thranduil, though it was hard. Tense silences often lay in the air, and even little Airëlus had begun to sense that something was wrong.

The three of them were in the family room at this moment in time. The King and Queen sat on the floor, watching their baby closely. He could walk without help, but if he got too excited, it was not rare for him to trip over. He was currently walking from Thranduil to Findilan, to Thranduil and back to Findilan. He had been doing it for half an hour, and every time he stopped in front of them, he would either say "hello Ada" or "hello Nana", without fail.

"He is never tired," Findilan said softly.

"He will wear himself out eventually," Thranduil replied.

The Queen nodded slowly, contemplating, as she watched her husband and son. She did not miss Deorfel – at least, she did not miss the way things had been in the final weeks with him. But she _did_ miss the friendship they had previously had. Still, she was glad that an end had been put to it, and she knew that Thranduil finding out had been for the best.

There was a knock on the door just then, and the King looked up in surprise. He had told all of his councillors not to disturb him today. Sighing, he picked up Airëlus – who was chewing on his hair – and went across to see whoever it was outside. It was a guard, and he looked more than unhappy.

"Your Highness, I am sorry to disturb you, but-

"Hello Elf," Airëlus giggled.

"Hush," Thranduil chided, shooting his son a sharp look. He glanced back up at the guard then, and nodded. "Go on."

"Your Highness, you are needed outside," the other Elf said quietly. "It is a matter of great urgency."

Inside the room, Findilan was listening closely. When she heard the word 'edan', her blood ran cold. Deorfel. It had to be him. But that meant... She looked up as her husband hissed in anger. The next thing she knew, Airëlus was being passed into her arms, and she was being told to stay inside.

"Thranduil..."

The Elven-king turned, and shook his head. "No. He knew. He knew what would happen if he was found here."

Findilan breathed out deeply as she and Airëlus were left alone. Deorfel was going to die. And how did that make her feel? She didn't know, she really didn't. But there were tears in her eyes, and she was not afraid to let them fall.

When King Thranduil re-entered the room some fifteen minutes later, he was not particularly surprised to see that the Queen was crying. She looked up, and their eyes met. Findilan took a deep breath, before whispering, "Is he...?"

Thranduil merely nodded once. "Yes. He is."

............................................................................................................

Thranduil rested his arms on his desk as he watched his little son playing on the floor. It was mid-evening, and Airëlus refused to go to bed until his mother was home. Findilan had gone out riding that afternoon, and had not yet come back. Needless to say the King was worried.

Just when he was contemplating going out to search for her, the door opened, and the Queen came in. Airëlus made a noise of delight and crawled across the room to be picked up. But Findilan shook her head, and sank into a chair at the far side of the room. Her face was pale.

"Has something happened?" Thranduil asked carefully.

"Yes," Findilan whispered. "I have some news."

The Elven-king felt his heart speed up as he was overcome with fear. But he managed to keep his voice calm. "What is it?"

"I...I am with child."

In that moment, Thranduil forgot all about what had happened with Deorfel. "Another baby?" he breathed, and his eyes sparkled with joy.

"Yes, but-

"I know it is not what we planned, but it doesn't matter." Thranduil laughed, and jumped across the room to hug his wife. "Fin, are you really expecting another child? Are you sure?"

"I am sure, but-

Thranduil laughed in delight, and looked down at his confused son. "Did you hear that, Airëlus? You will have a baby brother or sister to play with" Oh, this is perfect! Have you thought of any names yet? When did you find out? Do you think it is a boy or girl? We have to-

"The baby isn't yours!"

The Elven-king drew in a sharp breath, and stared at his wife in horror. "What do you mean? How can it not be mine?" But then realisation dawned. "Valar..."

"The baby's father is Deorfel," Findilan whispered. "I am sorry."

Thranduil shook his head in disbelief. "You're sorry?" he hissed, eyes flashing. "Do you expect me to just say 'oh, that's good, now we can be a happy family'? No, that is not going to happen. You are expecting a child which isn't mine!"

"Do you think I want it to be like this?" Findilan cried. "I didn't want any of this!"

"It doesn't seem as though you were complaining when you went with him!" Thranduil spat. "It just keeps getting better. First of all, I find out that you gave yourself to another. Incidentally, it was a damned human! Now I find out you are going to have his child?"

"If I could change things, I would!"

"Where have I heard that before? Oh yes, it was about a month ago." Thranduil shook his head in anger. "Now we are right back where we started. Damn you, Findilan! How could you have let this happen?"

"I hate this as much as you do!" the Queen cried, tears gathering in her eyes.

During the conversation, if it could be called that, Airëlus had crawled into his mother's arms. Now he began to cry quietly. He didn't like this argument – he had never seen his parents like this before. His grief went un-noticed though, as Findilan sat him down on a chair, so she could go to her husband.

"I am sorry – we should not be losing our tempers like this," she said quietly. "We should be talking, like the adults that we are."

Thranduil pushed her hand away from his arm. "What do you want me to say?" he spat. "I don't know if you can understand this, but I am actually having trouble trying to get my head around the fact that there is a baby growing inside of you, which has nothing to do with me!"

The Elven-king turned and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall, trying to calm himself. He couldn't. All he could see, was Deorfel and Findilan, together. With a yell of rage, he spun around and lifted the desk. He threw it, and ink bottles smashed on the floor, pages of books fell out, and splinters of wood flew every which way.

Airëlus immediately began screaming hysterically, and the tears poured from his eyes. He was scared – petrified, in fact. What had happened to his normally gentle and loving Ada? He didn't like this at all. Findilan was crying quietly, too shocked to comfort her son.

"Will you shut him up!" Thranduil snapped, jerking his head at the frightened child.

"Ada!" Airëlus sobbed. "Don't!"

The King took a deep breath, and pulled the baby into his arms. "I'm sorry, pen-neth. I didn't mean to scare you. Hush, its alright now."

Findilan watched through glistening eyes as Thranduil buried his face against Airëlus' shoulder. She had done this. It was all because of her, that her son was sobbing, and her husband, who she had already hurt enough, was being caused even more pain.

"Did Deorfel know?" Thranduil whispered eventually.

"I began to suspect after he was banished," the Queen said quietly. "I could have tried to follow him, but I did not because the one whom I want to be my child's father, is you."

"How can I?" Thranduil breathed. "How can I, after all this? Valar knows I do not want to lose you, but I can't..."

"You think you cannot be father to a baby whom you know not to be yours." Findilan nodded gently in understanding. ""But if you were to give it some time, maybe you could get used to the idea."

Thranduil looked up, and wiped away some of Airëlus' tears. "I can accept that you were Deorfel's lover; I can accept that you wept when I told you he had been killed. But how can I accept this?"

"I did not do this to spite you, or to hurt you even further," Findilan said softly. "Thranduil, this is merely a result of all that happened before. Some good will come of this, even if you cannot yet see it. I will be having a child."

"A child who is not mine," the King said quietly.

Findilan sighed, and rested a hand on the other Elf's shoulder. "We have not been married for that long, but in our time together, we have got through things which we did not think we would: the Last Alliance, your father's death, you becoming King at a young age – why can we not get through this?"

Thranduil flinched inwardly at the helplessness in his wife's voice. He hesitated, and raised his eyes to meet hers. "You are the one this is happening to, yet I go on as though it is all about me. You need support, but I am not giving it to you. Fin, we _can_ survive this. It will be hard, but I know we can do it."

Tears immediately re-filled the Queen's eyes as Thranduil wrapped the arm that was not holding Airëlus, around her, and pulled her close. But this time, they were not tears of grief, confusion, despair... they were tears of joy, hope, and love.

.............................................................................................................

"My Lord...."

King Thranduil immediately stopped pacing, and stared at the healer who had just stepped in front of him. "Yes, what is it? My wife, is she...how is she?"

"I think it best that you see for yourself," the healer replied.

Thranduil nodded and made to go forwards. But then he paused. A year had gone by since the revelation that Findilan was with child, and tonight, she was giving birth. The Elven-king_ had_ to stop for a moment, just to remind himself that if the baby had yet been born, it would look nothing like him.

'_But you knew that already,' _ he thought sharply, pushing open the door to his chambers.

Findilan was sat up in the large bed, eyes closed. Her face was flushed, and her breath came swiftly. But lying in her arms was a tiny form, wrapped up in white cloth: a baby. Thranduil bit down on his lip, and took a tentative step forwards.

"Meleth-nin, we have a baby son," Findilan breathed, her eyes fluttering open. "Do you wish to hold him?"

The Elven-king looked doubtfully at his wife. "I...I don't know. What if he does not...? No, I'm not sure. Maybe he won't like me."

One of the elder healers clicked her tongue in annoyance, and propelled Thranduil forwards. "Now really, you have done this once before. Don't be afraid of the child, he is much smaller than you."

"I am not-

"Good, then take him," she said firmly.

Thranduil made a face at her, before looking back down at the anxiously waiting Findilan. She smiled and lifted her arms, careful not to disturb the peaceful infant. The King hardly dared to breathe as he took the baby into his own arms.

"Valar..." Thranduil muttered. "He is beautiful."

There was a dusting of dark hair on the newborn's head, and his eyes were closed in sleep. Long lashes lay on his pale cheeks, and as the new father's hair fell down into his face, they fluttered slightly. Thranduil was just about to say something, when one of his fingers was suddenly caught in the baby's tiny hand.

"I will leave you three alone," the healer said softly.

Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed, still gazing down at the sleeping child. When he raised his eyes to meet his wife's, they were shining with tears – tears of joy. Findilan smiled and rested her head against the King's shoulder, yet she also was unable to look away from her son.

"No, _our_ son," she whispered.

"What?" Thranduil asked quietly.

"I just said that...our son is beautiful," she replied. "He is beautiful."

"He is," the other Elf nodded. "He will go on to do great things – I can see that already."

Findilan looked up and smiled. "You are biased, meleth." She paused, and nodded slowly. "I think also that he will go on to do great things."

In years to come, that child would indeed do very great things. But not all great deeds are good. Some are cruel, and should not be thought of by any living being. If either parent was aware of what the future would hold for them and their family, and what road their new son would go down...who knows what would have happened?

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Well, there it is. It was a really long chapter, I know, but I wanted to fit the whole thing into one update, cos otherwise you'd have to wait for the second half. It took ages to type though! I'm sorry that there's no reviewer responses here, but its very late, I'm tired, and my hands are so sore that they'll be dropping off any time now. Oh, there goes one now. But I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed this chapter, cos I'm interested as to what you think.

See you in a few days for the next chapter!

Misto

x-x


	27. Chapter 27

Airëlus stared at his father in utter shock and horror as the story came to an end. Confusion was in his blue eyes, and disbelief flashed across his face. But there were other emotions he was feeling: anger; betrayal; the hope that maybe he would wake up and find this had all been a dream. How could Calaen...? It could not be true! It was impossible!

"Say something," Thranduil said softly, leaning across the desk to touch a hand to his son's shoulder.

But the Prince pushed it away. "What can I say? What can I possibly say after all you have told me?"

"You wanted answers, and now you have them," Thranduil replied. "Coming to me was a risk. You knew that, but it did not stop that."

"Yes, because I had to know," Airëlus snapped. He shook his head slightly, trying to un-jumble his confused thoughts. "But now that I _do_ know, I..."

"You wish I had not told you," Thranduil finished.

Airëlus looked up, and his expression was cold. "No. I wish you had told me a long time ago. I should not have been the one to broach the subject. It should have been you."

"Why?" Thranduil asked quietly.

"Do you know what the past two weeks have been like?" Airëlus demanded. "I have had these images and thoughts in my head, and I had no way of knowing whether they were true or false."

The Elven-king narrowed his eyes. "You think that is bad? Then, let me tell you something. For every image you had, I have had a thousand more. But I have known all along that there was truth to them. I live with the knowledge that those pictures are not my mind playing tricks on me."

Airëlus shook his head, still disbelieving. "But why...? No. Ada, Naneth would never do anything like that, I know she wouldn't. There must have been another....something...I don't know!"

"I have told you everything," Thranduil said gently. "There is nothing more to it."

"So, I spent nearly my whole life believing that Calaen is my brother, when really, he is not." Airëlus stared accusingly at his father. "You let me believe it. You lied to me; to Calaen; to Legolas; to all of your people."

"No, there are a good number who are aware of the truth," Thranduil admitted quietly.

"What?"

The King flinched inwardly at the hard edge to his son's voice. "Airëlus, if you were to see a family of five Elves, four of whom had light hair and blue eyes, and one who had dark hair and green eyes, what would you think?"

"I...I would think it strange," the Prince had to admit.

"Many were around before Calaen's birth, and they saw the close bond Deorfel and your mother shared," Thranduil sighed. "When I had him killed, there was much talk, for he was one of the first to have his life taken in my realm. Also, they wondered why I should kill my own wife's closest friend. When Calaen was born, they put two and two together."

"Clever them," Airëlus said bitterly. He rested his head in his hands, and exhaled deeply. "Who else knows?"

"Mithrandir, Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel," Thranduil replied. "I don't know. There are many."

The Prince looked up through narrowed eyes. "And I am not one of them. Trying to get my mind used to the idea of my mother with someone else, and Calaen not being my brother is hard enough, but now I know that you have been lying to us, I-

"How could I tell you?" Thranduil hissed. "They were painful memories, still are. Do you think I wanted to drag up the past and destroy my family?"

"You put it off," Airëlus snapped. "You were afraid – afraid to face the truth. And because you tried to ignore it before, you now have to face the consequences of that stupidity."

Thranduil stood swiftly, and began pacing. "Call it what you will. If trying to protect the ones I love from the truth is stupidity, then yes, I _am_ stupid. Very stupid. And if you must know, only the day before her death, your mother and I spoke of revealing our secret. If it was up to me, you would have all been told. But she did not want that."

"So, you were content to carry on the lies," Airëlus nodded.

"I am no liar, and you will stop accusing me of being one, right now!" Thranduil snapped, eyes flashing. "No matter what has happened in the past, Calaen _is_ my son. I am the one who held him when he cried as an infant; I am the one he came running to if he fell and hurt himself; I taught him how to shoot an arrow and wield a knife; I disciplined him when he needed it; I loved him from the moment I first laid eyes on him, and I have not stopped loving him, nor will I ever. If that does not make him my son and I his father, I don't know what does."

Airëlus lowered his eyes, suddenly ashamed. "Ada, I am sorry. I did not mean to lose my temper, and I should not have said what I did. Forgive me."

Thranduil inclined his head, and rested a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "I do not blame you, for you have every right to be angry."

"How could I not have guessed?" Airëlus breathed. "It all seems so obvious now. How could he have dark hair and green eyes? Valar, I am so stupid."

The Elven-king shook his head. "No. When he was born, you were still young – old enough to notice the difference in his looks, but not old enough to think it strange. You grew so accustomed to seeing him that after a while, you stopped noticing his dark hair and green eyes. Your view was that his features did not matter, for he was your brother."

"That may be so, but what happens now?" Airëlus asked quietly.

Thranduil tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think that things will go on as they did before? Do you think that when I leave this room, I will forget the whole conversation?" Airëlus demanded. "Calaen is not my brother, and-

"Do you love him?" Thranduil cut in.

"Of course I do," Airëlus snapped. He glared at his father for a moment, before turning his gaze away. When he next spoke, his voice was gentle. "Yes, I love him."

"Then, this new revelation should not change your feelings," Thranduil said softly. "Deorfel is history, Airëlus. As far as I am concerned, he did not even exist. Calaen is _your_ brother, he is _my_ son. It has been that way since he was born, and it always will be."

Airëlus saw the sense in that, but refused to show it. Of course things did not have to change. He would not stop loving Calaen just because he was the blood-son of another. But he was still having trouble comprehending it. He could not... Shaking himself, he raised his eyes once more.

"I cannot keep this secret," he said quietly.

Thranduil did a double take – he had not been expecting that. "What do you mean?"

"Firstly, it would be torture, knowing this but not being able to speak of it. Secondly, it is morally incorrect for Calaen not to be told," Airëlus replied. "You _have_ to tell him, Ada. It would be wrong not to."

"I cannot do that," Thranduil said softly. "I-

"You owe him the truth," Airëlus cut in. "He deserves to know. It is his right to know, and only you can tell him. He has led his whole life believing one thing, and now he must know what is right."

"He is my son," Thranduil said helplessly.

Airëlus sighed, and moved forwards to touch a hand to his father's shoulder. "But Ada, I do not understand. Why now are you so reluctant to speak of this to Calaen, when once it was what you wanted?"

"Keeping my silence was the last thing I promised your mother I would do for her," Thranduil sighed. "I told her I would keep our secret hidden, and I intend to carry on doing that."

"She would understand," Airëlus said softly. "Ada, I fear that you have left it too long as it is. To wait even longer would do nothing but cause further damage."

Thranduil looked up, and his eyes flashed. "Now you think that you have the right to tell me, your father, your King, what to do? Since when has that right been granted to you?"

"I am not-

"You would do well to remember your station," Thranduil said coolly.

That was it. Airëlus knew the conversation was coming to an end. "Yes, as would you. You cannot play the role of King at the moment. Now you must be a father, and do what is right. And please, do not accuse me of trying to tell you what to do. I am trying to help you. Nothing more."

"If you have nothing more to say, you are dismissed," Thranduil replied shortly.

Airëlus nodded, and went over to the door. "Very well. Yet, there is one last question I would have answered."

"Speak."

"What of myself and Legolas?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" the Elven-king snapped.

"Calaen is the son of a mortal. Yes, you may look on him as your own, but you cannot truthfully claim that you are the one who fathered him," Airëlus replied. "Can you truthfully say that you are the father of Legolas and I? Or, are we, like Calaen, not of your blood? Do you have any more secrets, Ada?"

Thranduil's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and pain. "How dare you?" he hissed. "That you would even think of such a notion is one thing, but to imagine that your mother would-

"She did it once before," Airëlus cut in. Despite his words, he knew there was not a chance of what he said being true – and even as he said such things about Findilan, he felt guilt wash over him in waves.

The Elven-king looked as though he was seriously fighting the urge to strike his son, but all he did was nod towards the door. "You are dismissed."

Airëlus said nothing as he swept from the room. Tears of rage gathered in his eyes, and he swiped at them roughly. He could accept that Calaen was the son of another. He could accept that his parents had kept this secret. What he could _not_ accept, was the knowledge of the pain his brother would go through if he were to find out.

'_No, not if,'_ the Crown Prince thought grimly. _'_When _he finds out. Ada may be afraid to tell him, but I am not. He will be told today.'_

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**Jedi Gollum: **I saw a programme the other day about escape artists. Some of them are really crazy! I mean, why would you bury yourself under a ton of cement, and then try to get out?! Yes, baby Airëlus can stay with Cield and Tonus, but make sure that Cield is nice to him!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **That is very true. But then, if there was no Deorfel, then there would be no Calaen. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? LOL

**Irish Anor, Jennifer and Elven Kitten: **Glad you liked the chapter! I liked writing it!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yes, Thranduil really did love Findilan a lot. Poor them. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed!

**Halimanya: **Thank you for the praise! Yes, bits of it were very cute, but I think there was a lot of sadness also!

**Princess Vespa: **I'm glad you think that. I was actually quite worried about first revealing that Calaen was the son of someone else, because I didn't want people thinking that Findilan was a tramp or anything. So, I'm really happy you think I did it ok!

Or, will Calaen be told? I wonder. Actually, I don't. I know the answer to that, and I think that most of you do too. Anyway, not that any of you want to know, but I got a job at McDonald's today. Go me. I am so excited. Yeah right. Anyway, see you soon!

Luv Misto

x-x

PS: I know that some people wanted an alternate ending to 'Captured'. I know I said I would do one, but I'm re-considering that. I just don't have enough time on my hands, plus, I have a few more LOTR stories lined up after this one. If you are really _really_ desperate to see an alternate ending, then tell me, and I'll try and work something else.


	28. Chapter 28

Calaen rested his forehead against the wall, and stared unseeingly at the ground below him. It was moving, spinning around in circles so dizzying that he felt sick. It span around and around and around and around and around. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force away the horror that threatened to overwhelm him, to drown him, choke him.

He wanted to sink down to the floor, for he knew that his legs would not be able to hold him up for much longer. In his hand, he had held the book that he had planned to return. But now it fell. He did not notice. He did not notice anything. Except…he was still dimly aware of what was being said in the study.

Airëlus was being dismissed; the conversation was coming to an end. Calaen took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but it did little good. He had to physically push himself away from the wall that was acting as a support, for so great was the impact this revelation had on him, he was unable to move on his own.

But he had to move. He could not be seen outside the study. No-one could know that he had heard this. "Valar, help me," he whispered. "Please, give me strength."

The young Prince turned, and stumbled blindly through the corridors leading to the Royal Family's private rooms. His emerald eyes sparkled, though this time, the first time in many months, it was not with malice – it was tears. He ran as fast as his trembling legs would allow, ignoring anyone he passed. He needed sanctuary. To be alone and think of what he had learnt, and what it would mean. Why had no-one told him? He had spent his whole life not knowing, but now…

"Why Ada?" he breathed.

But the sound of that word coming from his lips was nearly enough to make him sick. How could he use it any more? It meant nothing. It used to, but now… Calaen blinked back the tears stinging his eyes, and pressed on down the corridor. He was nearly there; he could make it to the safety of his own room. His heart pounded painfully against his chest as he ran, but he did not care.

He wanted to scream; to yell; to cry. But he couldn't. Not until he was alone. It did not matter that both Thranduil and Airëlus had said that they loved him, and that nothing would change, despite his being of different blood. That did not ease the pain in his heart, the turmoil in his confused mind. All he knew, was that he was not who had thought – his whole life had been a lie.

He reached his room just when he felt as though he could run no longer. Gasping for breath, Calaen pushed open the door, and slammed it shut again almost as quickly. He leaned against it for a moment, and closing his eyes tightly, he slid down it until he was sitting on the floor.

"I don't understand." The whisper was a helpless plea for someone, anyone, to come and explain why this was happening.

The young Prince rested his head back against the door, and stared up at the ceiling. Before, he had wanted to cry. But now that he was alone, the tears remained imprisoned, they would not escape. He felt numb – unable to think properly, even to feel anything. Closing his eyes again, he exhaled deeply.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly.

Calaen shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Part of him wanted to believe that it wasn't true, that he was maybe living a nightmare. But another part of him knew that this was his reality. Thranduil wasn't his father. This man, this…Deorfel was. And, how did that make him feel?

"Maybe I should have guessed," the Elf murmured. "But how can they still love me? I am not a part of them. I never have been."

Tears filled his eyes, but he swiped them away angrily. He didn't want to cry anymore, not yet, at least. He wanted to find his father – the King, he had to remind himself – and…what then? If he _did _find Thranduil, what would he say? What would he do? Or rather, what _could_ he say and do?

"I want him to hold me like he used to, when I was younger," Calaen whispered. "But if he does, it will not mean anything. He is not my father – he is just another person."

The dark haired Elf stood up unsteadily, head spinning as he did. He looked all around his room, taking in every familiar detail: the untidy bed covers; the books strewn across his desk; creased clothes on the floor – everything in the room was exactly as it had been earlier this morning, last night, the night before. At least, everything except himself.

Physically, he had not changed. But inside, he felt like a completely new Elf. It was as though the life had lived was nothing, and now he had been re-born. He was alone. His mother was dead. His father, the human was dead. Deorfel had been killed… at Thranduil's order.

He didn't know how that made him feel. Part of him hated the King for taking the life of his blood-father. But the other part, the greater part of him felt no sadness. He could not deny that his life with Thranduil as his father had been a happy one – most of it, at least. And nor would he claim that the love he had felt for his family was diminishing because of what he had found out.

Calaen knew that even though he was angry with the King at the moment, he still loved him, and could and would not stop looking on him as his father. But that knowledge did not calm his beating heart; it did not soften the inner pain that the revelation had caused. As he was suddenly overcome with rage, he leapt forwards, and grabbed at the covers on his bed.

They ripped down the middle by the force of his strong hands, and he threw them to the ground, making a noise of anger as he did. He did not even stop to consider what he was doing, as he kicked at anything that lay in front of him; as he punched the wall; as he ripped pages from books; as he smashed ink bottles.

All he wanted to do in that moment in time was vent the hurt and pain he was feeling onto anything and everything else. His green eyes exploded in rage, and as the skin on his knuckles was torn by his fist connecting with the corner of the oak wardrobe, he did not even notice the blood.

But then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. He stood still, his breathing heavy and ragged, and he stared around at the mess he had created. Choking back a sob, he fell to his knees. The devastated Prince stayed like that for a long time, in the middle of the destruction, which was so alike to the destruction of his own heart and mind.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

Only thirty minutes later, and Thranduil and Airëlus were seated in the dining hall, trying to force down breakfast and keep up the pretence that everything was fine. Little Legolas sat eating some fruit, chattering away between mouthfuls, entirely oblivious to the tension that lay between his father and brother.

"And Ameldir said that I didn't have to go to any lessons today, because he didn't think it was fair for me to have to work everyday when Airëlus is home from patrol, because he might be going away soon. Isn't that right?" The Elfling pressed on without waiting for an answer. "I want to go to the archery fields today. Can you come with me, Airëlus? Oh, and then, can we go riding? Airëlus? Hello, are you awake?"

The Crown Prince looked up in annoyance. "What, Legolas?"

"I only wanted to know if you'd come riding with me," the child replied falteringly.

"Whatever you want," Airëlus sighed.

Thranduil glanced across at Legolas, and forced himself to smile. "Greenleaf, will you do me a favour? I want you to go and see where Calaen is. He should have been down a while ago."

Legolas hesitated, wondering how to deny this request. Then he smiled, and put a strawberry in his mouth. "I'm eating."

"That strawberry will be gone in a matter of seconds."

"I wanted some more, Ada."

Thranduil sighed as he took some strawberries and pressed them into his son's hand. "Then, you may take these for the journey. Go on now, before I ask Ameldir to change his mind about your lessons."

Legolas shrugged as he jumped down from his chair. He didn't want lessons, but the idea of seeing Calaen was not particularly appealing either. Still, he had no real objections to facing his brother if it meant being given the chance to spend the day with Airëlus.

As soon as the child had left the dining hall, Thranduil moved to sit next to his eldest son. "I know you are angry with me, and I do not blame you. I would be too, if I was in your position. But please, do not punish me with this cold silence."

"Tell him," Airëlus said softly.

"No."

"You ask me to break this silence, but it is because of _your _silence that I hold mine," Airëlus replied. "All you need to do is tell Calaen. It will be easier than you think."

Thranduil sighed and shook his head. "You ask too much of me."

"In that case…" The Crown Prince stood, and walked to the doors. "I only wish you would at least consider it before being so hasty to refuse my request."

"What are you doing?" Thranduil asked in annoyance, deliberately ignoring the comment.

"I need some time alone," was the cold reply.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas stopped outside his brother's room, and finished eating the last of his strawberries. He looked down at the red stain on his hands, and automatically rubbed them on his tunic. Ah. Now that was dirty. Oh well, the marks were not _that_ obvious, he reflected, as he raised a hand to knock on the door.

But without warning, it flew open even before he touched it. The Elfling jumped back in surprise as Calaen came storming out, and his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the destruction in his brother's room, before the door swung shut again. Biting down on his lip, he reached out a tentative hand, and caught the Elf's tunic.

"What do you want?" Calaen growled, spinning around and pushing his brother against the wall.

"I…I…Ada wanted me to see what you were doing," Legolas said, struggling to keep his voice free from fear.

"Did he?" Calaen murmured. "And, what will you tell him?"

The Elfling swallowed nervously, and shook his head slightly as the grip on his tunic tightened. For many months now, his brother had taunted him with cruel and mocking words, but never had he been this forceful. Legolas had faced very little violence in his life, and was far from used to it, especially from one of his family members.

"Answer me!" Calaen snapped, shaking the child.

"I don't know. What do you want me to tell him?" Legolas asked.

The dark haired Elf pulled his hands away from his brother's tunic, and shook his head. The look in his eyes seemed almost to be one of defeat. "I don't care. I don't care any more. Just…just cover for me. Make something up."

"Cal?"

"You heard."

"Yes, but I don't…" Legolas trailed off as a cold gaze was fixed on him. "Alright."

The elder Prince nodded curtly, before turning on his heel and walking down the corridor. Needless to say he left behind a very confused Elfling. Legolas was tempted to go and see just how much damage had been done to his brother's room, but decided instead to return to his father.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

King Thranduil's gaze was fixed on a spot somewhere on the far wall of the dining hall, and in fact, so concentrated were his eyes on that particular place, that he did not even hear the soft pattering of small feet on the floor. Nor did he notice the child standing at his side, or the gentle tugging on his arm.

"Ada!" Legolas said loudly, for the fourth time.

Snapped from his reverie, Thranduil looked down in surprise. "What? Oh, it is you."

"Who else would it be?" Legolas asked.

"Forgive me, I was…distracted," the Elven-king replied. "What was it that you wanted?"

"You asked me to go and see why Calaen hasn't come down for breakfast, so that's what I did, and now I've come back to tell you that he is still in bed." Legolas nodded to emphasise his point. "Yes, he is still in bed."

"Then, he is still asleep?" Thranduil asked in surprise. "Why?"

The child rolled his eyes slightly. "Ada…"

"What?"

"If he was asleep, then why would I ask him anything? And, if I _was_ silly enough to ask him anything, then I don't think he would answer. And if he _did_ answer…" Legolas fell silent, and shrugged. "If he _did_ answer, I would be worried. You see, if you're asleep, then you're not really supposed to talk."

"Of course. How silly of me." Thranduil sighed and rested his head in his hands.

Legolas bit his lip, and reached up to touch the Elven-king's arm. "Ada, are you alright? You seem…I don't know. Different."

"I am just tried," Thranduil replied. He looked down, and smiled weakly. "No ion-nin, I am fine, but I thank you for your concern."

Legolas was silent as he jumped up onto his father's lap and cuddled up against him. He thought that there _was_ something wring with his family. They all seemed to be upset for some reason. Though, he didn't know why. Maybe it was just 'one of those days' as some people said. Yes, that was probably it.

Thranduil closed his eyes as he kissed the top of his Elfling's golden head. At any other time, he would not have allowed Legolas to display such behaviour at the dining hall, but today, he just did not care.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yeah, Legolas was the only one who didn't know. Poor him, being kept in the dark. And yeah, Airëlus totally wouldn't feel any different about Calaen, just because he's the son of a human. That would be mean :(

**Legolas-gurl88: **Ugh, I am so cold. I had to wait an hour for my bus – which, by the way didn't even bother to show up for ages – and then it began to rain, and the wind was blowing really hard, so my dad had to come and get me. But then, like, two minutes before he pulled up, the bus did. I just waved it on in irritation, because I was so fed up with having to wait. No doubt I'll tell you all this again when I e-mail you!

**Jedi Gollum: **Oh yeah, McDonald's food is really nice – despite some of the stuff that goes in it. But to be honest with you, the British McDonald's are just cheap imitations of the American ones, and no-one really wants to work there. But I had no choice – I need money! Oh dear, Billy Bob knows about Deorfel? Don't let Cal find out – he wouldn't be happy. And no, I've not seen LOST. I don't think we have it in England. Are we deprived?

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Oh yes, my other stories will definitely contain Legolas. A few of the others will be in them also: Thranduil, Elladan, Elrohir…who else do I like to torture? LOL! Yeah, I'm not done causing pain to these poor people!

**Elven Kitten: **I'm glad you liked it!

**Utsuri: **I'm glad you liked the way that I did the chapter! It took me ages to write! Yeah, Airëlus definitely wants to tell Calaen, and Thranduil definitely doesn't, so that's bound to cause problems between them. Legolas will find out eventually, but all I'm saying is that it won't be for a very, very long time. What's up with the fries at McDonald's? I hope they're not too gross, cos I really like them!

**Halimanya: **Yep, definitely poor Calaen! There is much angst ahead. As always!

**Irish Anor: **I expect there'll be family issues for a lot of chapters to come!!!

Well, I'm sorry about the delayed update, but I couldn't help it, what with being down for submission and everything. But hey, its up now. Hopefully there won't be any more problems, so the updates won't be as…what's the word? I know what I mean, but I can't think of the word. Anyway, you probably get what I'm saying. So, see you all soon!

Luv Misto

x-x


	29. Chapter 29

Legolas sat at the side of the archery field, his quiver lying in front of him. There was a neat pile of arrows just beside him, and as soon as he finished examining one, he would carefully place it with the others. After all, he didn't want a repeat performance of his previous archery lesson, especially if Airëlus would be there.

The Elfling sighed, and pulled his fingers through the feathers – despite his not very happy mood, he couldn't help smiling as they tickled him. He had come to the conclusion that his family was definitely upset. Thranduil had hardly spoken at breakfast; Airëlus had been nearly silent; and Calaen…well, he had all but destroyed his own room. Where he was now, Legolas did not know.

"I hope he hasn't gone far into the forest," the child thought. "Ada wouldn't be happy with him."

Just as he was about to pick up another arrow to examine, Legolas heard a soft noise behind him. He turned, and a smile spread across his face as he saw who it was. But when he realised that Airëlus was wearing the uniform he wore when on patrol, his face fell.

"What's happening?" he asked uncertainly.

The Crown Prince sighed, and shook his head. "Legolas, I am so sorry."

"You're going," the child said softly. "Why? You only got back yesterday, and you're not supposed to leave for at least another week. You told me that the further you travel, and the harder you work, the more time with your family you get."

"I know…" Airëlus raised his eyes skywards, as if searching for an easy explanation up there.

"So why are you going?" Legolas pressed.

'_I am going because I am barely on speaking terms with our father,' _Airëlus thought bitterly. _'He has been keeping a secret from all of us for years, and now he refuses to tell Calaen, who is the one who deserves to know this thing. I am going, Legolas, because I need some time away from here to straighten things out in my mind.'_

Legolas reached up and caught his brother's hand. "Don't go. Please."

"I must," Airëlus replied. "Listen, I will be away for only a few weeks, and-

"But that's a few weeks too long!" the Elfling snapped, stamping his foot.

"If you make a scene, Legolas, I will leave right now," Airëlus murmured, as several soldiers standing around looked up. "I am in no mood for your temper today."

Legolas lowered his eyes. "Anyway, you can't go. Not yet. Last night, when I came into your room and I had that dream, I told you what Calaen said to me: that having a blanket made me look like a baby. You said you would talk to him."

Airëlus cursed silently. What he had been told that morning had completely wiped that from his mind. Yes, he had promised to talk to Calaen, but now Legolas' problem seemed trivial and unimportant, when compared to everything else that was happening.

"You said that you would," Legolas pressed.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but-

"You're going to break a promise," the Elfling said accusingly. "You shouldn't do that."

"I have apologised already."

Legolas just glared silently at the elder Prince. If truth be told, he couldn't care less about Airëlus talking to Calaen. After all, what was one mocking taunt out of a thousand others? He was used to it by now, even though he hated it. But still, he had hoped that saying this would make his brother stay for at least a little while longer.

"Just because you apologise for breaking a promise, it doesn't make it better," Legolas said eventually.

That was it. Airëlus caught the child's hand – it was still twisted in his tunic – and pushed him away. "If you are so desperate to have this sorted out, Legolas, then talk to Calaen yourself. I have more important things to do."

The little Prince looked at his brother, stunned. "Alright. Alright, I will, if _you_ don't care."

Airëlus knelt in front of the child, so that they were at eye level. "Legolas, I am so sorry. I lost my temper, and I know I should not have done. I should not have taken my anger out on you. Please, forgive me."

"I do," Legolas replied softly.

The Crown Prince sighed deeply. "I would stay if I could, but unfortunately, one of the… one of the soldiers from the patrol going out today is injured, so…they asked if I could take his place. I couldn't say no."

"I suppose," Legolas agreed.

'_Valar forgive me for lying to him, but I cannot tell _him_ the truth,' _Airëlus thought. _'Not yet. It would do too much damage. He would not understand.'_

"Are you going soon?" Legolas asked.

"What? Oh, the patrol is leaving in thirty minutes or so," Airëlus replied. "I came to tell you I was going, but I also wanted to ask you where Calaen is."

"Oh. I don't know," Legolas replied, busying himself with his arrows once more.

"But I thought that you were asked to go and see why he did not come to breakfast," Airëlus said slowly.

"Ye-es."

"So, where is he?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "He was still asleep the last time I saw him, but he could be awake now, so how am I supposed to know where he is?"

"Alright, I will go and…" Airëlus trailed off as his sharp Elven eyes caught sight of movement in the trees on the other side of the field. When he realised what was happening, he cursed, and set off at a sprint.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As soon as Calaen left the palace, he had headed straight for the trees. He had sat on a branch for what must have been about twenty minutes, staring unseeingly at the archery field and training grounds ahead of him. No thoughts had been in his mind, no emotions had swirled through him – in those moments, he had been aware of nothing, as he sat on his own.

But then, as the training grounds had begun to fill up with Elves, he had been snapped out of the almost calm world he had created for himself, where no-one else existed. The cheerful shouts of soldiers, the whistling of arrows and the clashing of practice knives had invaded his privacy though, and it was then he realised that there was a place he would truly be alone – where Findilan had died.

So he had jumped down silently from his branch, and begun creeping through the trees on the edge of the training ground. His heart was not in it at all, but he smiled vaguely to anyone who greeted him, so, when a cool voice said, "Calaen, fancy seeing you here," he merely nodded as a way of acknowledgement.

"Is the Prince not going to be a little more polite?"

Calaen froze, and turned slowly. At any other time, his heart would have sunk, but today, he felt nothing. "Berian, I did not see you and your rabble."

The young soldier growled low in his throat, and his friends who were standing behind, narrowed their eyes. "I would watch your manners if I were you."

"Would you? And if I were you, I would take a long run off a small cliff," Calaen shot back. "But sadly, I am not you, therefore I am unable to do Arda one of the biggest favours ever seen."

Berian's eyes flashed in fury, and he reached out and grabbed the younger Elf by his tunic. "You tread on dangerous ground. I care nothing for your title – if you think it will stop me from teaching you a valuable lesson, think again."

Calaen waited for something, anything, to happen. It didn't. He looked up and smiled grimly. "Then, where would this lesson be? Strike me, if you dare." A pause, during which emerald eyes locked onto light blue ones. Nothing else happened. "Ah, I see. You do _not_ dare."

"You see? And, is that the only thing that you see?" Berian snarled, pushing Calaen back against a tree. "Open your eyes a little wider, _Prince, _and then maybe you will see more. All your life, you have been blind – blind to what is right in front of you."

Calaen drew in a sharp breath as realisation dawned. "No…"

"You cannot see what everyone else can," Berian hissed. "Is it not obvious? Damn it, it is right in front of you! Can you not put two and two together? Even if you _were_ to work it out, I would not benefit at all, but still, I wish you _would_ realise, because your stupidity really is enough to make me want to kill myself, and-

"I know!" Calaen shouted, pushing Berian's hands away. "I know about it!"

The soldier blinked in surprise. "You know about…the human? But it was kept secret from you. Everyone knows that."

"I found out today," Calaen snapped.

"Who told-

"No-one, I overheard a conversation!" the Prince yelled. "I had to stand and listen to the real truth about me being told. And no-one knows. No-one is aware that I know."

Some of the Elves standing behind Berian shifted uncomfortably, and Calaen thought he could see sympathy on their faces. The fair haired soldier himself seemed to hesitate as he took in the information, and when he took a step forward and began speaking, he sounded uncertain.

"You see? You are no Prince. You are not the son of the King, are you?" Berian asked.

"That is not true, I-

"You are not even a proper Elf," Berian continued.

"Shut up."

"You are a disgrace to the Elven race, half-blood!"

"Shut up!"

"In fact, I am sure it will not be long before the King gets rid of you. And about time too."

"No!"

Without warning, Calaen leapt forwards and pushed Berian to the forest floor. Eyes blazing with fury, he grabbed the other Elf's head, and slammed it down onto the ground. The soldier was too stunned to even try and hold back the Prince's fist as blows began to rain down onto his body. He had never even known that Calaen possessed such strength.

Berian's friends were still standing around in uncomfortable silence. Although it crossed their minds to help him, none of them did. They knew that this was his own fault – he had crossed the line. Even they themselves would not have thought to go this far.

"He'll get killed," one of them whispered.

"Don't be so ridiculous, the Prince wouldn't do that," another replied.

"He's doing a fine job of it," came another comment.

Just when one of the bystanders was about to go and separate the fighting Elves, Airëlus ran onto the scene. Calaen raised his hand again, but as he brought it down, the Crown Prince leapt forwards and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back.

"What are you doing?" Airëlus snapped, spinning his brother around to face him. As his eyes met Calaen's, he felt another surge of pity mixed with love for him, but of course, he had to push that aside for the moment.

Calaen licked some blood away from his lower lip – he may have been in control of the fight, but he had not escaped unscathed. "Let go of me!"

"What are you doing?" Airëlus repeated angrily, shaking the other Elf.

"He deserved it!" Calaen yelled.

The dark haired Prince wrenched himself away and turned back to Berian, who was being helped to his feet. As fury overcame him again, he went to rush forwards. Airëlus, however, grabbed him once more. Blinded by rage, Calaen spun around, and for the first time in his life, struck his brother across the face.

No-one expected a fight to ensue between the two Princes. Calaen's anger gave him a strength he himself had never known he possessed, but he used that to his advantage. As he thought back to what he had heard that morning, his temper was fuelled. He hit Airëlus again, and the Crown Prince's lip split under the blow.

"What do you think you're doing?" Airëlus yelled, pushing his brother away from him.

Before Calaen could retaliate, both Princes were grabbed from behind by some of the older soldiers who had been training, but had been distracted by the fighting. One of them, Suithien, a commander of a patrol, looked at Airëlus through unreadable eyes, but his voice conveyed exactly what everyone else thought.

"I would not expect this from _you_," he said coolly.

Airëlus glared at Calaen, but immediately dropped his gaze. He could not feel real anger at him, even though it was the other Elf's fault that he had just been put down by his captain, in front of everyone. He tried to be angry at his brother, but again, could feel nothing but sadness, pity and love for him.

"Let go of me," Calaen muttered, trying to pull his arm away from the soldier who had him in a tight grip.

"I am afraid not," Suithien said regretfully. "This must be reported to your father."

Calaen's heart pounded painfully. He could not face the King – it was too soon. "Please, don't…"

"Take them to King Thranduil," Suithien said to two of the soldiers. He looked at the younger Prince, and said softly, "I am sorry, but he has to know."

Berian wiped some blood from his lip, and looked meaningfully at Calaen. "Forgive me," he said quietly.

"You have done enough!" Airëlus snapped.

"As have you," Suithien said sharply. He nodded to the soldiers. "Go on, take them. As for you, Berian… clean yourself up, and then report back to me."

The fair haired Elf nodded nervously. "Yes sir."

As he walked away, Berian closed his eyes tightly, and cursed himself over and over again. Why had he said that? Any of it? Why had he not been able to keep his thoughts to himself? Valar, most of what he had said was heat of the moment words. He did not hate Calaen – he was jealous of him. He resented the fact that the son of a human was a Prince of Mirkwood. His temper and jealousy always got him carried away.

Little did either of them know, but the soldier and Prince had more in common than was thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Irish Anor: **Well, I told Calaen about this shrink, and he said that he'd pop along and see her. But he also said that we shouldn't get our hopes up. He thinks that he's beyond hope, but if this shrink called Irish Anor can help him, he'd be very grateful.

**Elven Kitten: **Yep, me too! I feel horrible when I write the chapters when he's feeling particularly depressed! I mean, he hasn't done anything, but I'm really nasty to the poor guy!!!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Yeah, how inconvenient is Deorfel? I mean, he could have chosen a better time to die! I like strawberries also! Now that I'm typing this, I've started thinking about them, and I'm really hungry for them! But I don't think I have any on the house. Boo hoo! Oh, apparently there is no such word as 'hoo'. My spellchecker just told me it doesn't exist. Well, how very rude.

**Halimanya: **Yep, unfortunate definitely describes him!

**Little-Legolas-Lover: **Glad you like it!

Don't worry, Airëlus isn't going anywhere. I mean, he's only been back for a few chapters, and I wouldn't be nasty enough to send him off again. Right, now, I have a very good friend on here, and she has very kindly written a sonnet based on 'A Brother's Jealousy'. Her name is Legolas-gurl88, so if you would like to read her sonnet, just go to her bio page, and you'll find it there. Might I add that she has also written some very good stories. I nearly had a heart attack when I read her latest cliffhanger.

Anyway, I have to go and write some essays. What fun.

Luv Misto

x-x


	30. Chapter 30

King Thranduil held his quill pen over a piece of parchment, and sighed deeply as some black ink dripped onto the desk. He was supposed to be writing a letter to someone or other, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not concentrate. His mind kept returning to this latest dilemma – should he tell Calaen the truth, or should he not?

He knew that Airëlus had made some good points, and he knew that the longer he left it, the more damage would be caused when it finally came out. And he hated himself for that not being enough to convince him. Of course he wanted to protect his son, and if telling him now was the only way to do so, then…

'_Findilan, I promised you,' _the Elven-king thought sadly. _'It was the last thing that I ever…and now… how can I break that final promise? Maybe Airëlus is right – you would understand. But I wish you were here. I wish I did not have to do this on my own.'_

Thranduil was pulled from his thoughts by a knocking on his study door. Grateful for the distraction, he called out for whoever it was to enter. He expected it to be one of his advisors come to bother him – as they loved to do every day – and was definitely not prepared for what he saw: Calaen and Airëlus being brought in, both looking as un-Prince-like as they could be, especially the younger of the two.

"What happened?" the King demanded, fearing the worst – Orcs near the palace, accidents with weapons…

"Your Highness, we…" one of the soldiers began uncomfortably.

Thranduil was at his sons' sides immediately. When he laid eyes on Calaen, his heart sped slightly – it was, after all, the first time he had seen him that day, and he could not help but remember the story he had told. But as he gently wiped away some blood with his sleeve, the memories were overpowered by the love he had for the dark haired Prince.

"Your Highness, there is no need for worry," the other soldier said. "This was no attack. Your sons were in a fight."

The King's eyes hardened as he motioned for Calaen and Airëlus to sit down. When he next spoke, his voice was cold. "What happened?"

"Prince Calaen got into a dispute with a younger soldier," one of the Elves replied. "We are not aware of how or why it started, Your Highness, but he lost his temper. Prince Airëlus, from what we saw, joined in when he realised what was happening. I do not-

"That is a lie!" Airëlus spat, jumping to his feet.

"Silence!" Thranduil snapped.

"Forgive me, my Prince, but I can only say what I saw," the Elf replied apologetically.

Thranduil nodded once, dismissing the soldiers curtly. They bowed, and then left the room quickly, thinking that, for the protection of their sensitive ears, it would be best to be nowhere in the vicinity when their King's tirade began. It was the two Princes that they felt immensely sorry for, though.

There was silence in the room, though the tension did not go un-noticed. Calaen kept his eyes lowered, concentrating on remaining calm, so he would not give away that he knew anything; Airëlus stared defiantly into his father's eyes. He was not at fault, and his natural brotherly feelings made him want to protect the younger Prince from anyone who tried to shift the blame onto him.

"What have you done?" Thranduil hissed eventually. "More to the point, _why_ have you done it?"

"Do not make a fuss over this," Airëlus replied. "It is nothing, we just-

"Nothing? Nothing?" Thranduil exploded. "You two turn up looking like this, and you claim it to be 'nothing'? I was not born yesterday, Airëlus – I am not as stupid as maybe you like to think. I want the truth from you, and I want it now."

The Crown Prince pulled the back of his hand over his bottom lip, brushing away the blood. He was not badly injured, but the same thing could not be said about his brother. Calaen's left eyes was already beginning to swell, there was a dark bruise forming on his cheek, and a kick from Berian's booted foot had badly split his lip, sending blood dripping down his chin. His dark hair was untidy, the braids nearly undone.

"I am waiting for _one _of you to speak," Thranduil said in a low voice.

"What do you want us to say?" Airëlus challenged. "The _truth_?"

The King shot his eldest son a cold look, though he could understand the Prince's anger at his hypocrisy. For after all, that was what it was. "I expected better from both of you. I expect all of my children to act with at least _some _decorum. I have not brought any of you up to behave like this. As Princes of Mirkwood, you should both be setting examples, not picking fights and acting like a pair of spoilt children."

"Do you even know what you are talking about?" Airëlus exploded. "Maybe if you heard our sides of the story, you would understand a little more."

"Go on then," Thranduil replied. He leaned back against his desk, and nodded at the Crown Prince. "You speak first."

Airëlus glanced sideways at Calaen, wondering how to explain without getting his brother into further trouble. The dark haired Elf did not even look up. "Well, I-

The door of the study suddenly burst open, and Legolas ran into the room, out of breath. "Ada!"

"What do you want?" the King practically yelled.

The child stopped, a hurt expression on his face, and held out a cloth dripping with some unidentifiable substance. "I went to the healing rooms because Calaen and Airëlus are hurt, so the healers put a healing liquid on here."

"That was thoughtful, but now is not the time," Thranduil replied, working hard to keep his voice calm.

"Calaen's bleeding," Legolas said pointedly. "You have to make him better, Ada. You can't just leave him like that."

"I am talking to your brothers," Thranduil snapped. "You can leave that cloth on the desk if you want to, and then you can get out."

Legolas' eyes flashed. "You're horrible, Ada," he said venomously. "If you don't help him, then whenever you get hurt, I won't help you, and then you'll know what it feels like."

With that, the Elfling threw the cloth onto the desk, ignoring the fact that it was dripping all over Thranduil's papers. Shooting his father one last cold look, Legolas turned on his heel and stormed from the room. The other three Elves were silent. At any other time, the King being given an ultimatum like that by his little son would have been laughable. But it wasn't. Not this time.

Airëlus stood eventually, and picked up the cloth. Turning back to his brother, he said softly, "Calaen, you are still bleeding."

The dark haired Prince nodded so vaguely, that if a mortal had been present, the gesture would have gone un-noticed by him. Calaen didn't care that he was bleeding. He just wanted to get out of there. Not once had he looked at the King – he feared that, should he do so, the inner pain and turmoil that he already felt would be increased tenfold.

"This will help ease the pain," Airëlus continued. He gently turned his brother's face to him, but Calaen kept his eyes lowered. Sighing, the Crown Prince dabbed at the cuts with the cloth.

Thranduil stood at the side of the room, watching the scene in silence. The anger he had previously felt was slowly melting away. Legolas' words had shocked him, had made him realise that instead of shouting and going on at his sons, he should be helping them, and trying to find out what had happened to make them resort to violence. Suddenly, he stepped forwards, and caught Airëlus' arm. "Stop that."

The Crown Prince looked up in amazement. "You want me to stop helping my own brother?"

"No. _I _want to help _my_ son," Thranduil replied. He looked at Airëlus, pleading with his eyes. Sighing, the fair haired Elf nodded, and handed the cloth over.

Calaen barely paid attention to the exchange, but he knew what was going on. He hated the fact that they were talking about him as though he wasn't there. He just wanted to scream at them that he knew; he knew, and there was no need for them to pretend any more.

"Why did you do this?" Thranduil asked softly, turning the Prince's face gently. "This is not like you."

"I…" Calaen raised his eyes, and as soon as they met the King's, he tried to tear them away. He couldn't. "I…I don't…"

"You can tell me," Thranduil said. His anger really had disappeared as swiftly as it had come. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do," the Prince whispered. "I cannot tell you."

"Calaen, you are my son," Thranduil said gently. "There is nothing you can say that will shock me, or make me love you any less. I can help you."

"No!"

Without warning, Calaen hit the King's hand away, and jumped to his feet. Tears stung his eyes, and the incessant lies and pretence made him feel sick. As he wrenched the door open and ran from the room, neither Thranduil nor Airëlus made any move to go after him. They both wanted to, but they also knew he should be allowed time to cool down.

Airëlus was the first to speak. "Something is wrong with him. You should have seen the way he fought that soldier. I hate to say it, but if I had not stopped him, Calaen would have done some serious damage. I never even knew he had such strength."

"Then, you did not fight him?" Thranduil asked.

"Of course not. You really thought I did?" Airëlus said scornfully. "I would never hurt him. I pulled him away from the soldier, but I did not hit him. But…you should know that he hit me. Do not be angry with him."

"I am not. I am surprised," Thranduil replied. "He has never done that before."

"I know," Airëlus sighed. He paused, and shook his head regretfully. "Legolas saw everything."

The Elven-king grimaced at that. "He was not involved, though?"

"Of course not. He was kept back by some soldiers," Airëlus replied. "But that did not prevent him from seeing the fighting. From what I saw of him, he was frightened by it all."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Thranduil sighed. "I will speak to him after I have seen Calaen."

Airëlus arched an eyebrow. "What are you going to say to Calaen?"

Thranduil was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, he did not give an answer to the question. "You were planning to leave again today. I am sorry, but I must take you off patrol for a while."

"You cannot do that," Airëlus said incredulously.

"I can arrange it with your captain," Thranduil replied. "Do not worry; I am not doing this to punish you. I am doing it because I need you here. And I think that Calaen will also need you."

"What do you mean?" Airëlus asked.

The Elven-king turned to face his son, and smiled sadly. "You were right. I should have listened to you in the first." He paused, as though taking a moment to convince himself he was doing the right thing. "I am going to tell Calaen."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Cahoots is a beast of word, I love it! Yeah, that's how they got into cahoots, but there'll be a bit more on that in a few chapters time.

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yeah, I'm glad that Airëlus is staying too! I like him too much to send him away so soon! And yes, it was a bit mean of Calaen to hit his brother, but I don't suppose he can really be blamed at the moment. Poor Elf!

**Jedi Gollum: **Calaen said that Cield shouldn't be jealous. He thinks that jealousy is stupid and unnecessary. Oh hang on; he's saying something else now. Ah. He said scrap that idea. He thinks that if everyone was jealous of someone, the world would be a much better place. Right-o. Anyway, Calaen will have a new friend, but he still likes Cield!!!

**Utsuri: **That's cool that your calendar has Legolas on it this month. I have two calendars – one of ROTK, and one of Orlando. My ROTK one has Aragorn on it (Legolas was August – my Birthday!!!) and on the other one, guess who's this month?! Orlando! Well, it figures, I suppose.

**Halimanya: **Well, he didn't knock Berian's teeth out, but he sure did some damage!!!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Aw, your brother sounds so sweet! And he's at such a cute age! Lucky you!

**Coolio02: **Glad you enjoy!!!

**Elven Kitten: **Yeah, I agree with you! Although at this point, I'd rather huggle him! Huggle is a cool word!!!

Ooh, but Calaen already knows, so I wonder what will happen. Why do I always say that? I know what happens! I'm so stupid. Anyway, I'm under quite a lot of stress at the moment. I'm doing two drama performances this week (one tomorrow and one on Thursday) and they count for one third of my AS Level at college, so I'm nervous.

Right, I'm not sure, but I don't think there are many chapters left of this. I may only write three or four more, and that'll be it. But don't quote me on it. That might change. See, I think I've found a good place to stop, so I'm still considering it. But when I do finish this story, I have like, three other LOTR stories to write, and I'm really looking forward to writing them!!!

Anyway, next chapter is up soon!

Misto

x-x


	31. Chapter 31

Calaen lay on his bed, his face buried in the soft pillows. Silver tears streamed down his cheeks, and although he closed his eyes tightly to try and keep them imprisoned, they kept on escaping from under his dark lashes. Only an hour or so had passed since he had found out about Deorfel, yet already he felt close to breaking point. How could he hold it in for much longer?

There was a gentle knocking on the door, but Calaen ignored it, pushing his face further into the pillows. Whoever it was, he did not wish to see them. Another knock came. Again he ignored it. He had hoped that the person would leave, but his wishes were in vain. The door opened. But, he did not turn to see who it was.

"Cal….?"

Ah, just what he needed. The dark haired Prince remained silent, though he turned his head slightly to look at the opposite wall. Over by the door, Legolas took a few uncertain steps forward. Unknown to Calaen, he had seen him running from the King's study, tears in his eyes. Even now he could see the shaking of his brother's shoulders.

"Was Ada very angry?" the little Prince asked softly. No reply. "I saw you fighting with that Elf." No reply. "Then I saw you hit Airëlus. That made me cry." No reply. "Are you hurt much?"

"Why do you care?" Calaen asked in a low voice.

"Because… because you're my brother," Legolas replied. "And I love you."

"Do you?"

The child was silent as he took another step forwards over the various things that Calaen had thrown around earlier that day. He paused as he reached the side of the bed, and seemed to be contemplating something. After another moment's hesitation, he climbed up onto the bed, and gently touched his brother's shoulder. The dark haired Elf tensed, but did not speak.

"Cal, I love you," Legolas said softly. "I don't know if you love me or not. You used to, and I hope that you still do now. But even if you hate me, I'll always love you."

"What has brought this on?" Calaen asked quietly.

"When I saw you fighting, I was scared, because I didn't want you to get hurt," Legolas replied. "But you did get a little bit hurt. And when I gave Ada that medicine for you, you looked upset. I wanted to tell you then, because I thought it might cheer you up. But Ada was horrible and I had to leave. So I'm telling you now."

Calaen sat up, and looked down at his little brother. "I treat you terribly. But I still love you."

"Oh." Legolas was silent, but then his face brightened and he smiled. "It's alright, then. So long as you love me, I don't mind if you're a bit mean to me sometimes."

"But it's not alright!" Calaen snapped, resting his head in his hands. "I feel as though I am a prisoner of my own mind, a prisoner who is tortured every second of every day by thoughts that I cannot understand or control. And these thoughts make me say and do awful things. Sometimes I try and stop myself. But I cannot. Not only am I a prisoner of my mind, but I am also a slave of it."

Legolas understood nothing of this, but he nodded anyway. It was nice to be able to sit beside his brother without being laughed at or taunted, as was the case usually. He would listen quietly to everything that Calaen had to say – he did not want to break this rare moment.

"Sitting here with you, I suddenly realise that I am not in the presence of one who knows my life better than I do," the dark haired Elf said slowly. "You do not judge me, you do not whisper to others about what happened in the past, you do not…"

Calaen fell silent. It was true. For all he knew, Legolas was the only Elf in the whole of Mirkwood who was oblivious to the secret. And the fact that the secret was not known by this one person made him feel better. Not very much better. But still, a little.

"I don't understand," Legolas said softly. He looked up, and started at the fresh tears in his brother's eyes. "Calaen, what is it? Don't cry, please."

"I don't understand either," the elder Prince whispered, shaking his head helplessly. "I am confused, like I have not been for months now. I do not know what I feel. I do not even know how I _should _feel. I just….I wish they would be honest. Why can they not find the courage to tell me? Is it so hard?"

Now Legolas really was confused. He wondered vaguely if he had fallen asleep at one point, and missed an important part of what was being said. Shaking his head slightly, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around his brother's neck. Calaen made a jerking movement, as though he was torn between wanting to stay or leave. But he stayed. To Legolas' amazement, the dark haired Prince buried his face in his shoulder, and let his emotions free.

Calaen felt very little pleasure at the close contact with his brother. But he knew that he needed comfort, and at the end of the day, Legolas was the only one who would ask no questions, or press for details or explanations. So he took the chance to let his tears flow, and he savoured the privacy that being with the Elfling gave.

"Do you want me to get Ada?" Legolas asked eventually.

"Don't do that," Calaen murmured into his brother's shoulder. "I don't want anyone else to know about this. Keep this to yourself."

The child sighed, and shut his eyes. "You can tell me what's wrong if you want to."

"No."

"What about Airëlus?"

"No."

Legolas exhaled deeply. "I wish that Nana was here. She would make you feel better."

Calaen suddenly pulled away, his face hard and cold once more. "What did you say?"

"I said…I wish that Nana was here," the child replied falteringly.

Without warning, Calaen threw his brother from him, eyes blazing furiously. "How dare you?" he hissed, as Legolas hit the ground. "How dare you even think to say something like that? You wish that Naneth was here? She would be, if not for…"

The dark haired Prince cut himself short just before the accusatory words could come out. He bit down hard on his lip and tried to breathe deeply, in the hope that he would be calmed, but as he looked down at the clearly shocked Legolas, he just felt himself getting even angrier. He jumped off the bed and strode towards his little brother, face unreadable, but eyes burning with rage.

"Cal…"

"Don't you _ever _mention her again!" Calaen snapped, leaning down and shaking the Elfling. "You have no right to, not any more."

Legolas' eyes filled with tears at the words. "Why not?"

"Because it was your fault," Calaen growled, not releasing his hold. "If it was not for you, she would still be here. You are a spoilt little brat, and if not for your petty wants, my mother would not be dead!"

"She was my mother too!" Legolas shouted. "And I didn't do it on purpose! If I had known she was going to fall, I wouldn't have asked her to get my leaves."

"You killed her!" Calaen hissed.

Legolas' face froze in a mask of horror as he stared at his brother. "I didn't kill Nana," he whispered. The tears in his eyes began to fall. "I didn't kill Nana!"

"No. You murdered her," Calaen said cruelly.

The child was still for a moment, before lunging forwards and hitting his brother with his small fists. He beat upon the dark haired Elf's chest, trying valiantly to hurt him, but Calaen was strong. Legolas failed in his efforts. The elder Prince laughed, and with a flick of his hand, hit the Elfling across the face.

"What can you possibly do to me?" Calaen jeered. "There is not a lot that can hurt me any more, Legolas, so your pathetic attempts are a waste of time."

The little Prince closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the stinging of his cheek for the moment. "You're not my brother. You're not who I love," he whispered. "I want my brother back. I want you to tell me stories when I go to bed; I want you to play with me; I want you to go back to the way you once were, Calaen – the way you were before you became a different Elf. I want the old times back."

Calaen turned away, and stared unseeingly out of the window. When he next spoke, his voice was cold, empty, lifeless. "Those times are dead."

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

**Halimanya: **Yep, I bet there'll be some fireworks!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **I think that the reactions would differ from person to person. Calaen is based very much on the way that I myself was a few months ago. I haven't lost my parents, and I don't hate my brother or anything like that, but it's easy to put myself in his position, as I can relate to him, and this is the way that I see it. :)

**Jedi Gollum: **I told Calaen about Cield's gift. He was quiet for a while, and to tell the truth, he didn't look too impressed. But then he said that he would accept the gift, as he didn't want to upset a friend. Oh, and Cal wants you to tell Cield not to worry about the wrapping paper.

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yeah, let's blame the weather!!! For conversations sake, what's the weather like for you at the moment? Today, where I live, it was the coldest day this year. I'm not kidding. Really, I couldn't step outside it was so cold!

**Utsuri: **Have you seen the 2005 LOTR calendars? I went into a calendar shop last night, and there were like, four different LOTR ones! I'm really glad that although there are no more films to be released, they're carrying on with the calendars!

**Jennifer: **Glad you're enjoying!!!

**Elven Kitten: **Yeah, huggle is a very cool word. Except, my spellchecker doesn't recognise it, which I think is just really rude. Silly spellchecker.

Yeah, I know that this is quite a short chapter, but I've had to do two really stressful drama performances this week for college, but they're out the way now. Anyway, next chapter is up soon. Oh yeah, ROTK EE comes out tomorrow! I'm so excited!!!

Misto

x-x


	32. Chapter 32

_Why do you look so sad?_

_Tears are in your eyes, _

_Come on and come to me now._

_Don't be ashamed to cry, _

_Let me see you through, _

_Because I've seen the dark side too. _

_When the night falls on you, _

_And you don't know what to do, _

_Nothing you confess could make me love you less. _

_So if you're mad, get mad. _

_Don't hold it all inside, _

_Come on and talk to me. _

_What have you got to hide?_

_I get angry too, _

_I'm a lot like you. _

_When you're standing at the crossroads, _

_And don't know which path to choose, _

_Let me come along,_

_Because even if you're wrong,_

_I'll stand by you._

_When the night falls on you_

_And you're feeling all alone,_

_You won't be on your own. _

_ I'll Stand By You, Girls Aloud_

………………………………………………………………………………………………

King Thranduil paused outside Calaen's door, taking a moment to both calm himself and prepare himself for what he was going to do. Never had he imagined that he would have to face this on his own, without the support of his wife. But part of him wondered if it was better this way. Had she been alive, Findilan would hate for her children to know of her past.

'_But in a way, I am glad that it happened,' _Thranduil thought. _'I despise Deorfel for what he did, but I cannot deny that if he had not, then Calaen would not be here. My son was the good thing that came out of it all.'_

Taking a deep breath, the Elven-king stepped forwards and opened the door. He exhaled sharply as he was greeted by the destruction in the Prince's room. Calaen, who was sitting in silence on the bed, looked up with cold eyes. He had planned nothing, he had not thought of anything to say or do when the time for this inevitable conversation came.

"Did you do this?" Thranduil asked in amazement.

"No. I opened my door to see everything flying around on its own," Calaen deadpanned. "It must have been wizardry."

The King sighed as he stepped over some books. "Why? Were you _that_ angry?"

"No. I was overcome with joy," the Prince replied. He looked up, and smiled humourlessly. "I suppose you have come to lecture me now? It was inevitable, really. But can I be perfectly honest with you? I do not care."

"What has gotten into you?" Thranduil asked incredulously. "Calaen, something must have happened to make you behave this way. Will you not tell me? I want to help you."

"Oh, no lecture?" The dark haired Elf laughed softly.

"No. No lecture," Thranduil replied. He paused, and reached down to pick up the ripped sheets from the floor. "Destruction is a good way to vent anger. I can remember when I was your age. All I wanted to do was train with my friends, and go out riding, but my father wanted to teach me all about ruling a kingdom, and diplomacy. He had me sit in the council room for days, so that I could listen to the discussions and arguments that he and his advisors had. But I just did not care for any of it."

"What does this have to do with me?" Calaen said sullenly.

"One day I had made plans with my friends, but Oropher told me that he was holding a council, and it would be beneficial if I was to sit in on it," Thranduil continued. "I was so angry that I stormed away from him up to my own rooms, and proceeded to destroy everything I could lay my hands on."

"Really, what does-?

"After the council had finished," Thranduil cut in, "my father came to me. He was angry at first that I had caused so much damage, but then I told him everything. I felt better for talking to him, and he finally understood how I felt."

Calaen looked up, and said carelessly, "So, what then?"

"He gave me the freedom that I had so desired," Thranduil replied, smiling vaguely at the memory. "So you see, everything worked out for the best."

"And, the moral of this story is…?"

The Elven-king sighed, and sat beside the Prince. "The only reason everything worked out the way that I wanted it to, was because I told my father what the problem was. He helped me. I can help you."

"Maybe." Calaen paused, and locked his green eyes onto Thranduil's blue ones. "I do not think that you came here to find out what – if anything – is troubling me. There was another reason."

"I will not lie to you," Thranduil replied. "There _was _something else. But now that I see how upset you are, I do not wish to burden you with anything more. It can wait."

"Then, it was not important?"

"No. No, it was very important, but…" Thranduil paused, and closed his eyes as he realised what he had just said. "Calaen, I am thinking of you. This is not something that you should hear – not if you have other thoughts on your mind."

The dark haired Elf nodded slowly. "Would you do anything for me? Anything at all."

"You know that I would."

"Well, then…"

"Calaen, I…." Thranduil leaned forwards, and rested his head in his hands. "Very well. I will tell you everything, though it is against my better judgement. But I must ask one thing of you. What you will hear may give you cause to believe that things have changed, or will change. Do not think that, for they have not, and nor will they ever."

The Prince nodded slowly. His mind had been spinning as he had wondered what to do. He had been torn between admitting that he knew everything – this would also save Thranduil from repeating a story which clearly still pained him – and continuing to feign ignorance.

It did not take long to make his mind up. He chose the latter. Calaen had forced himself to accept that there was nothing he could do about Deorfel. He could not change what had happened in the past, no matter what he did. But he wanted to stop being lied and pretended to. He wanted to hear the words said to him by Thranduil.

"Tell me," he said softly.

The Elven-king looked across at the Prince, and touched a hand to his shoulder. "I…Calaen…" He closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm himself. "Calaen, I am not your father. Not by blood."

"Right." The dark haired Elf rose, and went to the other side of the room. "I see."

Thranduil blinked in surprise – this was the last thing he had expected. "Do you have nothing more to say? I thought that your reaction would be different."

"It was," Calaen replied. "It was _very_ different."

"I do not understand," Thranduil said slowly.

"No, nor did I at first. But I have resigned myself to the fact that I cannot change what happened a long time ago. I was very confused to start with, but I have been alone for a while, and I have had time to sort things out in my mind, and now I understand things a little bit better," Calaen said.

Thranduil's heart thudded painfully against his chest as the full realisation hit him. "Valar…you know," he breathed.

"Yes, I know." Calaen turned back to face the King, and smiled sadly. "You did not expect that. After all, you kept the secret so well hidden, how could I possibly find out? But I did."

"When? How?" Thranduil asked. "How did you…?"

"This morning. Might I give you some advice? If you wish to keep what you say private, then invest in a new door for your study. The one that you have at the moment is useless." Calaen reached up a hand, and tapped a delicately pointed ear. "I heard everything."

Thranduil closed his eyes tightly, wondering when he was going to wake up and realise that this was all a nightmare. The fact that Calaen had found out in the way that he had was enough, but knowing how much pain the Prince must be going through, physically hurt his heart. He looked up and shook his head, not knowing what to say.

"I did not want to believe it at first," Calaen said slowly. "This is something that I have heard about – a child being brought up to believe various things about his family, I mean. But I never imagined it would happen to me. So when I overheard you talking with Airëlus, it did not seem real. But after shedding a few tears, destroying my room and assaulting a soldier, I realised that I had to accept it."

"So that is why you fought him," Thranduil said. He paused, and sighed heavily. "Overhearing a conversation is not how I would have you find out. By the Valar, Calaen, I am sorry. I am so sorry."

"Don't be. It is not your fault that this...human manipulated Naneth to do what he wanted; it is not your fault that the door to your study is a useless barrier; it…" Calaen turned away as tears gathered in his eyes, and his voice choked. "It is not your fault that I…that I happened to be there."

Thranduil moved from the bed and was instantly at the Prince's side. "No, none of that was my fault. But I blame myself for your pain. I could have made it easier for you by telling you a long time ago."

"I heard your reasons," Calaen sighed. "It was the last thing that you promised Naneth before she died. I understand why you kept your silence."

"In doing so, I hurt you even more. You are my son, and the last thing that-

"Am I?"

"What do you mean?"

Calaen turned back to face the Elven-king. "I heard you tell Airëlus that you have never stopped loving me and you never will, but…" He trailed off and lowered his gaze. "I want to hear you say it to _me_. Please."

Thranduil put both hands on the Prince's shoulders, and locked eyes with him. "Calaen, I love you. You are _my_ son, and I swear by all that I hold dear, I will kill anyone who says anything different. I love you more than life itself. I would willingly die for you. That we are of different blood means nothing – I am your father. Nothing will change that."

Calaen lowered his eyes so that the tears of relief would go un-noticed. "Ada…I was afraid. Afraid that…it sounds stupid, but I was afraid that I would never again be able to call you that, and-

"Why would you think that?" Thranduil shook his head sadly at the words. "No Calaen, that should not have crossed your mind."

"But you understand why it did?" the Prince asked. "I was confused, and because I had no-one to talk to about this, it just made things even worse."

"But you have someone to talk to now," Thranduil replied. "You can tell me anything that you want to about how you are feeling; you can ask me any questions, and I will answer them as best as I can. Do you want to ask me anything?"

Calaen bit down on his lip, and raised his eyes slowly. "Ever since I was born, you have lived with the knowledge that I am not your son by blood. Did that ever make you feel certain things that you did not feel with Airëlus or Legolas? Was I different?"

"Yes. You were very different, but never in a bad way," Thranduil replied. He smiled as various memories came flooding back. "When you were only a few months old, your mother left you with me for the day so that she could go out riding. You cried for hours, and nothing I did would stop you. I had never had such problems with Airëlus, and I did not know what to do. By the time your mother had returned, I had convinced myself that you could somehow sense the truth, and you did not like me because you knew that I was not your father by blood."

"Really?" Calaen asked softly.

"Yes. It was a ridiculous notion. And whenever people commented on your dark hair or green eyes, my heart would miss a beat. Paranoia would always set in – I was afraid that they also had guessed. Of course, many of them did," Thranduil said. "But eventually, I realised that it did not matter what others knew or thought or said, because I had a child who I loved with all of my heart, and no-one could ever take that away."

Calaen smiled – a real smile, perhaps for the first time in months. "Thank you. I have been thinking of what could have happened."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked.

"My life could have turned out so differently. What if you could not stand to look at me, so you sent me to live with humans?" Calaen replied. "What if every time you looked into my face, you saw Deorfel staring back at you? What if-

The young Prince gasped as he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace. For a split second only, he felt slightly uncomfortable, as though he did not deserve this comfort. But then he relaxed both physically and emotionally, and buried his face into the Elven-king's shoulder. Tears were in his eyes, but they were tears brought on by the emotion of the moment that was being shared.

"There is only one answer to those questions: nothing would have happened, because I _never _felt that way," Thranduil said softly. "Not even once in your whole life have I felt anything but love for you."

"Ada, I…." Calaen leaned back from the embrace, and locked eyes with the King. "Ada, I love you too."

The Elven-king smiled softly. "Do not think of what may have been. Think only of what is, and what will come to be. The past cannot be changed, but your future is your own. Whatever you choose to do in life, I will support you, and I will be proud of you."

"You cannot know what the future holds," Calaen said quietly. "For any of us."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**IwishChan: **Don't worry, I cry over lots of things too! I still cry over ROTK. How silly is that?!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **I agree!

**Irish Anor: **Yes, he is, isn't he? We really do need to start thinking about sending him to see this shrink that you mentioned.

**Utsuri: **I feel bad for Legolas, too! He doesn't understand why Calaen is being so mean. Poor Elfling. And yes, I want to help Calaen also. But if I did, then the next two stories after this wouldn't exist!

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yep, it's definitely cold out here! I reckon that it's cold enough for snow! I hope it snows at Christmas, because that would be really magical! Anyway, I don't have much to say, because all that I want to say, I'm going to put in an e-mail, and to type it twice would just be silly. Like me!

**Halimanya: **Oh dear, I didn't mean to make you cry!

**Elvendancer: **I live in England. ROTK EE was brilliant! I loved it so much!!!

**Jedi Gollum: **Yeah, Cal is ok with the wrapping. He'll probably feed it to Legolas anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Oh dear, poor Rick. I don't have a clue who these people are, but I'll be sad for them anyway!

**Elven Kitten: **Do you still want to hurt Calaen?

**Little-Legolas-Lover: **Yep, there are gonna be a few more chapters. I won't say how many, because normally I give a number, but it ends up being a lot more! But yeah, there are definitely a few more.

**Pippin the hobbit-elf: **Wow, that would be great! I tell you what; I'll send you an e-mail with my address, because obviously I don't want to put it up on here!!!

I know that this chapter took a long time to get up, but that is for a number of reasons. One: I had trouble writing it. Two: I have three pieces of coursework to do by Monday. Three: I have got a new job. Four: It's coming up to Christmas, and I've been very busy with shopping for presents and everything. But I'm hoping that the next one won't take as long. I've got a day off from college today, so although I've got work to do, I'll still have a bit more time to work on this. So, see you all soon!

Misto

x-x

PS: Has anyone seen ROTK EE yet?


	33. Chapter 33

Airëlus sat in silence at his desk, resting his head in his hands. He could only imagine what was happening with his father and brother. A large part of him had wanted to go to Calaen with Thranduil, but he knew that it was better if the two were alone. He had accepted that, but the waiting was awful.

Just as he was considering wandering down to his brother's room to see if he could find out anything, the door opened. He snapped his head around quickly, hoping that he would see Thranduil or Calaen. But he saw neither of them. He quickly concealed the disappointment on his face as Legolas came in.

"Hello," the Elfling said quietly.

Airëlus sighed, and went back to staring at the wall. "Now is not a good time. I am sorry, but-

"Goodbye then." Legolas turned away and went back to the door, blinking back tears. He still had not recovered from the shock that Calaen's accusations had brought about, and all he wanted was someone who he knew loved him to hold him close.

The Crown Prince winced at the dejection in his little brother's vice, and immediately felt ashamed that he had thought to turn him away. "Legolas, I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter." The Elfling reached up to open the door again. "I can go and talk to my toy soldiers."

Airëlus jumped up and quickly ran over to the child. He put a hand on his shoulder, and gently turned him. "No, you do not have to… By the Valar, what happened to your face?"

"I fell," Legolas whispered, tears filling his eyes.

"Greenleaf, what are you like?" Airëlus shook his head as he lifted the Elfling into his arms, and went to sit back down. "Now, how did you fall? Were you running too fast again?"

"I… Yes," Legolas said softly.

Airëlus looked at the red mark for a moment, and then let his gaze travel back to his brother's eyes. "Where did you fall?"

"The library," Legolas replied. "I was running, and I ran into a bookcase, and…and that was what made me fall."

"Hmm…" Airëlus was not sure whether to believe the story or not. "You really should be more careful. One of these days you could seriously hurt yourself or someone else. And, whose fault would that be?"

"Mine," Legolas whispered. Fresh tears filled his eyes, and he jumped off his brother's lap and down to the ground. "I…I want to go now."

Airëlus watched in bewilderment, unaware of the effect that his words had had. Legolas ran to the door and tried hard to open it, but couldn't. His eyes were blurred, and hysteria was rising. Making a noise of anger, he slammed a fist against one of the oak panels, and stamped a foot on the floor in frustration.

"What are you-?"

"I want to go!" Legolas shouted. "I want to go, but I can't open the door! It's not working properly."

Airëlus stood, and went across to his little brother. Resting a hand on the door handle, he shook his head slightly. "You were pulling it the wrong way. It turns to the left, not the right."

"I know, but it wasn't my fault!" the Elfling snapped, unable to keep the petulance from his voice. "It wasn't my fault, Airëlus! I haven't done anything! I just…I just want to go."

"Calm yourself," the Crown Prince said sharply. "You are becoming hysterical, and I do not wish to have a temperamental Elfling on my hands today. Now, I will open the door for you, and then you are to go to your own room so that you can have some time alone to calm down."

"Yes Airëlus," Legolas muttered.

The door opened, and before it was even open half way, the little Prince darted through, and ran up the corridor. His vision was blurred by tears, and it was a miracle that he did not trip. But as he rounded the corner, he bumped into somebody coming from the other direction, and fell to the ground.

"Legolas, what have I told you about running in the palace?" Thranduil sighed, as he reached down and helped the child up.

"I know!" Legolas snapped, hitting his father's hand away.

The Elven-king was stunned for a moment, but then he merely shot his son a cold look, and continued on down the corridor. Like Airëlus, he did not want to deal with Legolas' bad mood today. He had much more important things to think about. But, perhaps if he had known the reason behind his youngest son's upset, he would have been more concerned.

"We should talk to him later," Airëlus said from his doorway. "We cannot let this latest tribulation distance us from Legolas."

"I know," Thranduil replied. "I did not mean to ignore him like that, but…" He trailed off, and nodded towards his eldest son's room. "Let us go in there."

"How did he take it?" Airëlus asked softly.

The Elven-king smiled vaguely as he shut the door. "Calaen? Oh, he was alright."

"Alright? But he… Sorry, did I hear you correctly?" Airëlus sounded amazed. "How could he hear something like that and be 'alright' about it? Valar, if it was me, I would-

"He already knew," Thranduil cut in.

Airëlus looked up sharply, and shook his head. "No," he whispered. "He could not know. But…but how?"

"When I told you this morning, he was standing outside the study, listening to everything," Thranduil replied. "He knew before I could tell him myself."

The Crown Prince sank down onto the edge of his bed, and rested his head in his hands. "That must have hurt him so much," he breathed. He felt his heart aching for his younger brother. "Calaen, why that way?"

"Yes, it hurt him," Thranduil said, sitting beside Airëlus, and touching a hand to his shoulder. "He told me that he had been confused at first, and afraid. I think that it would have carried on that way, if we had not spoken. Fear not for him."

"I must go and see him," Airëlus said. "I wanted to go with you to tell him, but I thought it best to leave you two alone."

"Of course," Thranduil replied. He smiled, and got to his feet. "Come, then. I am going that way anyway. I will see Legolas, and make sure that he is alright."

Airëlus winced as they left his room. "Will you tell him that I am sorry? He will understand what you mean."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Thranduil asked.

"I snapped at him. I did not mean to, but I was just so worried about what might be happening with you and Calaen. I was very sharp with him," Airëlus sighed. "It was not his fault."

"Do not worry. I will be sure to tell him," Thranduil said.

The Crown Prince nodded his thanks as they came to a half outside Calaen's room. "Alright. I will see you later, then."

"No doubt you will," the Elven-king replied. He smiled at his eldest son, before continuing down the corridor to see Legolas.

Airëlus watched his father out of sight, and as he did so, he wondered vaguely at that fact that his family had come so far. He had not expected them to get through Findilan's death, yet every single one of them had done. And this latest matter…he had thought this morning that it would put even more strain on them all, but from what Thranduil had told him, clearly that was not going to happen.

Shaking himself mentally, the Crown Prince knocked gently on the door, but found that he could not wait for an answer. He pushed it open, and smiled at the scene inside: Calaen was kneeling on the floor, picking up bits of paper and books that had obviously been thrown around. He looked up at his brother, but he did not say anything.

"Cal, you know?" Airëlus said softly.

"Yes, I know. I had to find out sooner or later," Calaen replied. He stood, and threw the books he had collected onto the bed. "I was shocked at first, but I am fine now."

Airëlus stepped forwards, and pulled his brother into a tight embrace. "It is something that should never have happened. You should not have had to find out in such a way."

"No, I shouldn't," Calaen agreed. "But it made things easier for Ada."

"I do not think so." Airëlus sighed, and pulled away from the embrace. "I think that it hurt him even more than telling you himself would have. But what about you? Are you really fine, as you say?"

"Yes, I am. I would not be, had Ada not spoken to me," Calaen replied. "But he did, and he gave me the reassurance that I had needed all along."

Airëlus nodded slowly. "Cal, do you know how much we love you?"

"I have heard this already," the dark haired Elf said. "Ada told me when I spoke to him."

"Do you mind hearing it again?"

"Do I have much choice?"

"No."

"Well, then…"

Airëlus smiled, and touched a hand to the other Elf's shoulder. "You should not need to hear it, because you should know it already. But I still want to tell you that you are so special, to all of us. We all love you more than you can know, and I am so proud to be able to call you my little brother."

"Less of the 'little'. I am not that much younger than you," Calaen said.

"That does not matter. You are still my little brother," Airëlus replied.

The dark haired Elf laughed softly. "Thank you. Thank you for being here. This conversation – with you and the one that I had with Ada – have made me realise how lucky I am to have you both."

"And Legolas," Airëlus said. "You have him also."

Calaen nodded, but inside he was fuming. The little brat wasn't even in the room, but still he managed to ruin the moment. "Yes, how could I forget Legolas?" he asked softly. He paused, and glanced towards the door. "If you don't mind, Airëlus, I think I would like to go outside for a while."

"Of course," the Crown Prince replied. "Do you want me to finish tidying for you?"

"You do not have to. But if you really wish to spend your day cleaning up _my_ mess, then who am I to stop you?" Calaen asked.

"Do not get used to it. I will not be doing this every time your room is transformed into a battle ground," Airëlus said. "Go on, then. I will see you later."

"No doubt you will," Calaen replied.

The Crown Prince looked up, and smiled at his younger brother. _'You are more like Ada_ _than you know,' _he thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil softly pushed open the door to his youngest son's room, and what he saw in there upset him greatly. Legolas lay on the bed, sobbing into his pillows. His small body shook uncontrollably, and the way he cried would have been enough to play games with even the most stoic and emotionless beings, if they were to see him.

"Legolas…"

The Elfling looked up, and wiped away some tears. More came to replace them, though. "Ada, I…"

Thranduil went forwards quickly as Legolas broke down again. Sitting on the bed and pulling his son into his arms, he said softly, "What is it? What has upset you so?"

Legolas buried his face into his father's chest, and closed his eyes tightly. He could _not_ tell him what Calaen had said. For a start, he did not want anybody to know such a horrible thing about him. And besides, if he was to reveal that such a thing had been said, then that would be disloyalty to his brother.

The Elven-king was desperate to know what had upset his child, but he understood that Legolas needed some time to be comforted, without being bombarded with questions. So he remained quiet, stroking the Elfling's hair, and occasionally murmuring soothing Elvish words. He hoped that his son would stop crying soon – it hurt, seeing him in such a state.

When his sobs had subsided slightly, Legolas looked up. "I haven't been a very good Elfling today," he sniffed. "First of all I interrupted you when you were talking to Calaen and Airëlus; and then I threw the medicine cloth onto your papers and got them wet; and then I wasn't very nice to you when I was coming down the corridor. I know that I have made you angry today, but…"

"But what?" Thranduil asked gently.

"But please don't shout at me. Please don't be angry," Legolas whispered. "I just want you to…" He buried his face again. "I just want you to hold me."

Thranduil automatically tightened the hold that he already had on his child. "I am not angry with you. But is that all that upset you? Why should it?"

"Would you love me even if I was the most horrible Elfling in the whole of Middle Earth?" Legolas asked quietly.

"What sort of a question is that? Of course I would – you are my son," Thranduil replied, wondering where the conversation was going.

"Would you love me whatever I did?" Legolas pressed.

The Elven-king put both hands on the Prince's shoulders, and moved him back a little. "What have you done now?"

"Would you?"

"Legolas, what have you done?"

"Would you love me?"

Thranduil closed his eyes, and shook his head slightly. "It seems that all I have said today are those three words. Yes, I love you, Legolas. I also love Airëlus, and I also love Calaen. Is there something you see which suggests that I do not? Do you also doubt my love for you?"

The Prince lowered his eyes – he had not meant for this to happen. "No, I don't. But will you tell me something?"

"Go on," Thranduil sighed.

"Would you love me if…?" The child trailed off at the look on his father's face. But he had to know. "Would you love me if I killed someone?"

The Elven-king's eyes snapped up in surprise. "If you killed…? Oh, I see. Legolas, how many times have I told you that stepping on an insect is not something that you should get yourself worked up over?"

"I'm not talking about an insect," the Elfling said softly. "I'm talking about a real person."

"Do you want to tell me what is going on?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas lowered his eyes, and sighed deeply. "I was just wondering, that's all."

"Were you really?"

"Yes. Ada, you don't think that I've killed someone, do you?" Legolas asked.

"Of course not." The Elven-king sighed, and shook his head. "I will never understand the way that children's minds work. Really, I never thought that I would be asked such a question by you."

Legolas nodded briefly. "Hmm."

"Are you alright now?" Thranduil asked seriously. "No more tears?"

"No more tears," the Elfling said quietly.

"Good. Why don't you go and play, then?" The King glanced across to the side of the room where some of his son's toys lay in a heap. Dust already was beginning to gather on them. "Your soldiers are looking a bit neglected. You could take them outside."

"They don't like the sun," Legolas said flatly.

"Do they not?"

"No. It is too bright for them."

"I see. But then, how do they fight?" Thranduil asked. "They cannot let the sunlight get in the way of battle."

Legolas shrugged as he went over and began sorting through his toys. "They only fight inside, where the sun can't get them."

"That would explain why your room always resembles a battlefield," Thranduil said.

"Yes. I don't want to play with soldiers anyway. Not today. I am going to draw some pictures instead," Legolas informed his father. "I haven't done that for a long time. I have neglected my…my…"

"Artistic talents?" Thranduil offered.

"Yes."

The Elven-king laughed as he opened the door. "Very well. I look forward to seeing what new masterpieces you create today."

Legolas smiled, but as soon as the door closed, and he was once again left alone, it faded. He leaned against the wall, and sighed deeply. His question had been unanswered. Or rather, avoided. Had Thranduil done it on purpose? The Elfling didn't know. He closed his eyes; a single tear fell.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Pippin the hobbit-elf: **Um, I'm not sure! I think that whatever you do will be fine! I'll send you an e-mail about it. I know I said that last time, but I've had so little time on the computer this week, its not even funny!

**Utsuri: **Wow, you got to be Santa? That's cool! Yeah, there is a literary term for it, and I've been trying to think of it for ages, but I can't! My English lecturer at college would freak out!

**IwishChan: **He is a nice father, isn't he?!

**Coolio02: **I think that at this point, Cal is past saving. Which is kinda sad. Poor him! :(

**Elven Kitten: **I'm sorry, I don't mean to! At least if you end up going crazy, then you'll know whose fault it is!

**Kelsey Estel: **I saw ROTK EE the day it came out. It's so good! But don't worry, there's only a few more days until Xmas!

**Legolas-gurl88: **Wow, that was a really nice simile. Or is it a metaphor. I can't remember which is which, which is stupid, because that's what we've been doing in English lectures. Do you know that I wrote the word 'which' three times in that sentence?! Amusing!!!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **Yes, ROTK EE was brilliant! And yeah, there is a scene with Legolas and Gimli and ale. You'll laugh so much, guaranteed!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Wasn't it brilliant?! I cried at the part where Eomer finds Eowyn's body. I thought that was just so sad!

**Halimanya: **Thank you for the praise! Yay, you didn't cry! Good, because I don't like being guilty of that!

**Irish Anor: **Calaen doesn't want to do anything over Christmas, and he's going to a party on New Year's Eve, so that's out. Its gonna have to be some time in January, I think.

Well, I have some news. I've written chapter 34 and 35, I'm in the middle of writing chapter 36, and then there's just one more after that. But I'll put 34 and 35 up tomorrow, and if the last 2 chapters are finished, then they'll be up on Friday. And I worked out earlier that I've been writing this whole storyline since early February. How scary is that?! See you tomorrow!

Misto

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	34. Chapter 34

Berian, the fair haired soldier who had been victim to Calaen's fury earlier that day, sat under the shade of a tree, watching, but not really seeing, the training of his fellow warriors. He had just been spoken to by his commanding officer, Suithien, and the veteran fighter had been angrier than a Balrog on a particularly bad day.

'_But I deserved it,' _he thought sadly. _'This is my fault.'_

"Ah, look who it is."

Berian snapped his eyes up, and they widened as they met emerald orbs. "Prince Calaen…"

"Good afternoon. I don't suppose you mind if I sit with you? If you would prefer me not to, that is quite fine. After all, I understand things better now," Calaen said.

The soldier winced as he was overcome with guilt once more. "No. Please, sit down."

Calaen did so, and the two sat in silence. Berian absent-mindedly played with blades of grass, wondering which one of them would speak first. He had spent a long time bullying the Prince, but today he had finally realised that all he had done was wrong. And that had hurt. It had hurt a lot.

"What did Captain Suithien say to you?" Calaen asked eventually.

"What I expected him to," Berian muttered.

The Prince sighed deeply, and looked across at the other Elf. "You can say more than that. I don't like you, and you don't like me. But what are a few sentences between enemies?"

"Captain Suithien lectured me on how an Elf – especially a warrior of the realm – should conduct himself, and that to fight Royalty is a serious offence," Berian sighed. "He…he has removed me of my station. I am no longer in the patrols. He said that my behaviour showed that I am clearly not ready to join the ranks of Mirkwood's troops."

"He took you off patrol," Calaen said slowly.

"It is no more than I deserve," Berian replied. He looked away, and sighed deeply. "All my life I have wanted to fight, so when I was accepted as a soldier, I was overjoyed. I thought that I could finally do something to make my family proud. I should have known that it was too good to last. But like I said: I deserve this."

Calaen shrugged carelessly. But despite his dislike for the other Elf, he could not help but feel slightly moved by the emotive words. After all, he knew what it was like – having to compete against brothers, and work to make his family proud. But he remained silent. He refused to reveal how this made him feel.

"But you do not need to listen to my problems," Berian said. "They are trivial in comparison to your own."

"Maybe," Calaen replied.

"I know that it is not my place to ask, but what exactly…?" The soldier trailed off, and made a slight gesture with his hands. "What…?"

"What happened? I was told about the human."

"But…but you already knew."

"I did. But my father and brother did not know that I already knew," Calaen replied. "It all went better than I thought it would. I spoke with both of them, and…well…"

"Do not tell me," Berian said quickly. "It is your own business, not mine."

Calaen looked at the other Elf suspiciously. "Why so compassionate all of a sudden? Do you expect me to believe that you actually care?"

"No, I do not. But I _do_ care," Berian said heatedly. "I know what you are going through. I can relate to your problems more than you know. I…. No, never mind."

"Go on," Calaen pressed.

"It is nothing," Berian sighed.

"It must be something, else you would not have brought it up. But if you want to keep it to yourself, then do so. I know what it is like, having to keep things hidden," Calaen said.

Berian rested his head in one hand, and continued to watch the soldiers in training. "I, like you, have two brothers. One older, one younger. The younger one is a precious little Elfling who can get away with murder, whilst the elder is absolutely perfect in every single way."

'_Sounds familiar,' _Calaen thought grimly.

"My father is dead. He…he was a mortal," Berian said quietly. "Old age took him. My mother would not give up her immortality for him, as she had children to think of – myself and my elder brother. The younger one is the son of an Elf. But I often wonder why she gave her heart to him when she knew their life together would be short."

Calaen shook himself mentally – he had been so shocked that he was almost rendered speechless. "You cannot help who you fall in love with."

"I suppose not," Berian sighed. "My elder brother is a healer in the palace. You have probably seen him. My younger brother has his mind set on becoming a history tutor. He is very bright. I am the only one in the whole family to have fought under the Mirkwood banner."

"Was your mother proud when you were accepted?" Calaen asked softly.

"Of course. For one night, I felt as though my brothers' achievements meant nothing. _I_ was the one who had done something." Berian smiled sadly as he looked across at the other Elf. "This will break her heart when she finds out."

Calaen was silent for a moment as he thought about what he had been told. "Then, why so much hypocrisy? Why so many cruel words to me? Why so much hatred?"

"Never hatred," Berian said quickly. "Jealousy: yes. Dislike: yes. Resentment: yes. Hatred: no."

"Alright, no hatred," Calaen said, waving a hand impatiently. "But why were you so hypocritical? You are no different to me."

"But I _am_ different. I am the son of a human who I loved whilst he was alive. Now he is dead, and I cannot love my younger brother's father. I live in a small cottage when I am not on patrol. I have to keep our home clean, cook food and look after the Elfling," Berian replied. "You live in the palace, you have servants, you are a Prince, and you have known a father for your whole life. I lost mine when I was a child."

"Go on," Calaen said softly.

"Both of us are the blood sons of mortals. I felt it unfair that you should have such a perfect life, whilst mine could not be any different," Berian continued. "Maybe it was petty, but I was so jealous of you. Jealousy makes one do and say things that maybe they do not mean."

'_Doesn't it just?' _Calaen thought.

"So there you are," Berian finished. "That is my story."

The Prince nodded slowly. "I think I understand you now. Although, there is one more thing I would ask. If you disliked me before, why so different now?"

"I grew up with the knowledge that I had a mortal father," Berian replied. "You did not. I put myself in your place, and imagined listening to such a secret being revealed, and I…I hated it. I hated _myself_ for saying such awful things to you."

"Yes, I _do_ understand you," Calaen said softly. He paused, and glanced sideways at the other Elf. "What will you do now? Suithien has not taken you off patrol permanently, has he?"

"No. But I will not stay here," Berian replied. "I have cousins in Rivendell. It was not long ago that I was thinking of visiting them. I may as well do it now."

"You are leaving Mirkwood?" Calaen asked in surprise.

"I will come back, though I cannot say when," Berian sighed. "I still feel shame that I treated my Prince in such a way. And, who knows? Maybe I can start a new life in Rivendell.

"Maybe," Calaen replied.

"There are patrols heading that way tomorrow. I will accompany them," Berian said. "I…I just want to apologise for what I put you through."

"Forget it. It is in the past," Calaen said. He paused, and glanced sideways. "You do not have to leave."

"You and I could never be friends. There is too much history, too much past animosity. I would feel nothing but shame and guilt if I was to stay. No. This is what I must do," Berian replied. "But I feel as though my treatment of you puts me in your debt."

Calaen arched an eyebrow at that. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe you can think of nothing I could help you with, or do for you, but perhaps in the future you will feel differently," Berian said. "If you need anything, then send me a message, and I will do everything in my power to help you."

"I will bear that in mind," Calaen said. He smiled, and reached across to touch the other Elf's shoulder briefly. "Thank you."

"There is no need for thanks," Berian replied. He looked across to the other side of the training field, and winced as he realised that Suithien was watching suspiciously. "I must go. Obviously the Captain does not trust me."

The two Elves stood up, and without another word, the once soldier turned and walked away. Calaen watched him go, wondering at all that had happened. And wondering especially at what had been said about a 'debt'. He dismissed the thought – he would probably never use the offer of help, even though it was greatly appreciated.

But time goes on. Things change.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

**IwishChan: **Don't worry, I also cried when ROTK EE finished! It all seems so final!

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yeah, that is a really sweet chapter name! I probably will name them at some point, like I did with the other two. I'll make sure to remember it! Hmm, not that long till July 16th, I suppose!

**Lombadia Greenleaf: **He is strong, isn't he? And he's only an Elfling :(

**Warriormaid3000: **Dramatic irony! Thank you!

**Irish Anor: **January 16th is good, I'll write it in his diary. I mean, I could tell him, and let him do it himself, but he would only 'forget'.

The next chapter will be up later tonight, probably after 9.00, because I want to see EastEnders tonight, and then there's the EastEnders Christmas party, and it was really good last year, so I don't wanna miss it this year!

Anyway, I've been thinking. I'll definitely update a chapter tonight, and one tomorrow, but I'm not sure if the last chapter will be up tomorrow. It might be, but if not, then it'll be up on Boxing Day. Merry Christmas!!!

Misto

x-x


	35. Chapter 35

………………

Calaen turned around, his eyes searching desperately. He had been looking for hours, but it was all in vain. All he could see was darkness. He was becoming lost in it. But he knew where he was, and the fact that he could not find his way through it scared him. For all he knew, he had been walking around and around in circles.

"Where are you?" he breathed. "You must be here somewhere. Please…"

"Calaen?"

The Prince spun around, and let out a breath of relief as he laid eyes on the King of Mirkwood. "Ada, I have been-

"Why do you call me that?" Thranduil's voice was cold, indifferent. "Why should you name me as your father?"

"Because…because you are my father," Calaen said slowly. He took a tentative step forwards. "Ada, why are-

"Do not call me that!" the Elven-king snapped. "You are not my son. You never have been, and you never will be. I would die before admitting that you are part of my family."

Calaen's eyes widened in horror, and he ran forwards to grab the other Elf by the shoulders. "Ada, why-

Thranduil's hand appeared out of nowhere, and as he struck the young Prince, his face remained impassive. He watched through cold eyes as Calaen fell to the ground. "Did you not hear what I said?"

"No, this cannot be…"

"What is going on here?"

Calaen's head snapped up, and relief washed over him. His brother would help him. "Airëlus, something is wrong."

"I know," the Crown Prince agreed. "_You_ are still here."

"What do you mean?" Calaen breathed.

Thranduil and Airëlus remained silent, watching through eyes narrowed in hatred. As the young Prince begged them, pleaded with them for answers as to why they were treating him so, they both laughed cruelly. They did not care.

………………

"No!" Calaen sat up with a start, and his eyes flitted wildly around the room. He searched in the dark for the same malicious faces that had taunted him, praying that they would not be there this time, and that he would be spared from hearing their cruel words.

He drew in a deep breath, and rested his head in his hands. "It was a dream," he whispered. "It was only a dream. Ada and Airëlus did not say that. They wouldn't."

Calaen lay down in bed again, and pulled the covers over his shoulders. Of course his family would never say such things to him or about him. It was nonsense to even think that they would. But as he lay there, waiting for sleep to take him, he realised that sleep would not come.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil pushed open the door to Legolas' room, and silently watched his sleeping son. After the birth of Airëlus, the Elven-king had made a habit of checking on all three of his children every night before he himself went to his private rooms. Findilan had also done so when alive. But of course none of the three Princes were aware of their parents' vigilance.

Thranduil smiled vaguely, and turned to leave so that he could look in on Calaen. But then he paused, and went back into the room. He had just remembered the drawings that Legolas had done – he had not yet seen them, but suddenly, he wanted to. The Elfling always managed to draw something more creative and imaginative that ever before, so his artwork was always interesting to see.

'_Ai Legolas, someone will break their neck one of these days,' _Thranduil thought, as he carefully stepped over various toys and books. _'You really must tidy your room tomorrow, ion-nin. But no doubt you will invent some excuse to get yourself out of it."_

When he had finally located the drawings amongst everything else littered on the floor, the Elven-king straightened up and moved into the light so that he could see them better. He had expected odd coloured portraits of himself and the other two Princes, trees and gardens, sunshine. But what he saw could not have been more different.

Instead of the usual childish art, Legolas had drawn a different tableau on three pieces of parchment, and had made untidy notes next to each picture. The first drawing was a tree, with an Elven-lady climbing it. The annotation said: _This is_ _Nana. She is getting leaves for me._

Thranduil bit down on his lip. He was unsure of whether or not he wanted to see what was next. But he forced himself to turn the page. The next piece of art made him catch his breath. It was a forest in the background, with the Elven lady falling through the air. The untidy scrawl read: _This is Nana falling out of the tree._

'_Legolas, what kind of…?' _The Elven-king's thoughts were cut off, and he would not be ashamed to admit that tears stung his eyes at the next piece of parchment. Findilan lay on the ground, and a little Elfling sat beside her. _Nana is dead. Her neck is funny. I am with her. She is never coming back. _

"Ai Elbereth!" Thranduil breathed. He threw the drawings onto the desk at the side of the room, and leaned against the wall, trying to calm himself.

'_Why? Why did he do that? Why did he draw such a thing? And the words…' _Thranduil's mind spun wildly. _'They were so childish, and so blunt, but…'_

The Elven-king was dimly aware of soft footsteps in the corridor outside, and he forced his shock away so that he could call out. "Airëlus, is that you?"

The Crown Prince immediately arrived at the doorway. "Good evening, Ada. Or rather, good morning. It is past midnight. I was just on my way to my bed. And why are you still up?"

"Will you come here a minute?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Ada, it is late," Airëlus sighed. "I want sleep and I want it now. Can this not wait?"

"No."

"Very well. Really, what does one have to do to be allowed some rest in this...? Damn it, Legolas! Is it impossible for you to keep a tidy room for more than a few hours?" The Crown Prince glared down at the toy which had dared to nearly trip him, and kicked it to the other side of the room. His brother did not wake. His father did not turn.

"Legolas drew some pictures," Thranduil said softly.

"What now? More portraits of me looking particularly dashing with green hair and…" Airëlus trailed off, and snatched the pieces of parchment from the desk.

Thranduil turned, watching sadly as disbelief flitted across his eldest son's face. "It is a disturbing thing to see from him."

"It is awful," Airëlus agreed quietly. "But why should he want to draw something like this?"

"I do not know. But we will get no answers tonight, that is for certain," Thranduil sighed. "Go to bed, ion-nin. It is late, as you said."

"Sleep will not come. Not now that I have seen these," Airëlus replied.

"Try to rest, at least. Today has not been easy for you." The Elven-king exhaled deeply as they went over to the door. "We will question Legolas about these drawings in the morning. Maybe he-

"Ada?"

Thranduil and Airëlus spun around to where the soft voice had come from. Legolas was sat up in bed, looking around in confusion, wondering what was going on. And as they watched him, both were filled with an overwhelming desire to see into his mind, to see _exactly_ what thoughts and feelings he kept private.

"Why did you wake me?" Legolas asked eventually.

"We did not mean to," Thranduil replied. "Go back to sleep."

"But why are you in here?" The child paused, and glanced at his brother's hand. He smiled vaguely. "Oh, you have seen my drawings. Do you like them? I did them today."

Airëlus took a deep breath as he went forwards to sit on the bed. "Legolas, why did…why did you do this? Can you tell me why you drew these pictures?"

"Well, I wanted to draw _something_, but I couldn't think of what to do. And then I remembered something that Ameldir taught me: that stories can be told by pictures," Legolas replied. "I was thinking about Nana, so I decided to tell her story."

"Her story," Airëlus said faintly.

"Yes." Legolas paused, and looked up at his eldest brother. "Don't you like them?"

The Crown Prince stood, and dropped the drawings back onto the desk. "No. No, I do not like them at all."

"Airëlus," Thranduil said sharply.

"I am sorry, but…"

The Elven-king sighed, and sat beside his youngest son, who looked as though he was fighting hard not to show how upset he was. "Legolas, it is not that we do not like your drawings. We are merely surprised that you would want to draw such things."

"It is not a very nice story because Nana…well, she…she died. But it is a story that would make people sad," the child explained slowly. "Ameldir said that Beren and Luthien's story is very sad, and people enjoy that one."

"Yes, but people also enjoy happy stories," Thranduil said.

"I know, but…" Legolas trailed off, and lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ada."

Thranduil smiled, and pushed some hair back from his son's eyes. "You did nothing wrong. As I said before, you merely surprised us. Is that not so, Airëlus?"

"Yes, it is," the Crown Prince replied. "I am sorry, Greenleaf. You are a talented Elfling. But might I suggest that you continue to draw pictures of us with odd coloured hair? I like those."

Legolas paused as movement by the door caught his attention. He glanced across, and when he saw Calaen standing there, his heart skipped a beat. But he forced himself to smile at Airëlus. "Yes, I like those too."

"We are sorry to have woken you," Thranduil said, pulling back the covers so that his Elfling could climb back into bed. "Go to sleep again, ion-nin."

"Goodnight," Legolas murmured.

The King and Crown Prince watched as the child turned on his side and pulled the covers up over his head. Then, shooting each other brief smiles, they turned, and silently left the room. The drawings remained on the desk – neither of them even thought to take them away.

"What was that about?" Calaen asked, as the door shut.

"Legolas drew some pictures of Naneth," Airëlus replied. "They worried us, that is all. But it is alright now."

"What are you doing out of bed, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked.

Calaen paused as he considered what to say. He had actually left his room because the dream had struck fear into him, and although he knew that it meant nothing, he had still wanted reassurance. But now…Legolas had drawn pictures of Findilan? Intriguing. "I was not asleep," he said eventually. "Do you ever feel like going for a walk?"

"In the middle of the night? Rarely," Thranduil replied, suppressing a smile.

"Oh. Well, I was just about to go back to bed anyway," Calaen said. "But is it alright if I go in and say goodnight to Legolas?"

"Of course," the King said. "But do not keep him up too long, though. You know what he gets like if he does not have enough sleep."

Calaen nodded. "I think that everyone knows, Ada. He has a temper on him that could rival yours."

Thranduil laughed, and touched a hand to the Prince's shoulder. "Sleep well, ion-nin."

"See you in the morning," Airëlus said to his brother. "And really, please do not keep Legolas awake for too long. When he gets in a bad mood because of lack of sleep, I always feel like moving to Rivendell."

Calaen smiled, but as soon as the Crown Prince turned and began walking in the other direction, it faded, and his face became cold and hard once more. So, Legolas had drawn pictures of Findilan? As he silently pushed open the door to his little brother's room, the dark haired Elf's eyes narrowed in hatred.

Legolas would not get away with this.

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Well, I won't leave any review responses in this chapter, because it wasn't very long ago that I updated, so they'll be in tomorrow's chapter.

See you soon!

Misto

x-x


	36. Chapter 36

Calaen turned, and silently pushed open the door to his little brother's room. His sharp eyes caught the tensing of Legolas' body underneath the covers, but he ignored it, and went straight over to the desk. As he picked up the pieces of parchment, and scanned each one, his green eyes narrowed to mere slits, and he was suddenly filled with an intense hatred.

He turned back to the bed, and took a few steps towards it. "You are not asleep, Legolas."

The Elfling slowly lifted his head, hoping against hope that his brother had not seen…Oh. He held them in his hand. "What are you….what are you doing in here?"

Calaen did not answer. He went forwards and sat on the edge of the bed, noting and enjoying the fear that the other Prince's eyes held, the nervous anticipation that he knew the child felt. There was silence for a long while until eventually, Legolas opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off as the dark haired Elf raised both hands, and slowly ripped the drawings.

"Did you think that I would not find out about these?" Calaen asked softly, continuing in the destruction. "You cannot hide things from me. I always find out."

Legolas watched as the shredded bits of parchment fluttered down to land on top of the covers. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you clearly did not listen to what I told you earlier. I said that you do not have the right to name Naneth as your mother. So, what makes you think that you can draw these horrible little pictures of her?" Calaen replied. He smiled at the look on his brother's face. "Oh, did you not take me seriously? Why not?"

"Because…because she was my Nana," Legolas whispered.

"Really?" Calaen leaned forwards, and threw the small pieces of parchment at the Elfling. "Think again."

Legolas closed his eyes, and shook his head. "I hate you."

"That's funny. Because I seem to remember you saying earlier today that you love me," Calaen said slowly.

"I do," Legolas replied, his voice shaking.

"So, you don't hate me?" the dark haired Elf pressed.

"No, I _do_ hate you," the child whispered.

"So, you don't love me, then?"

"No, I _do _love you, but…" Legolas rested his head in his hands, tangling them in his hair. "Stop this, please. Please don't do this to me any more, Calaen. Please."

The elder Prince shrugged carelessly. "What am I doing?"

Legolas shook his head violently. These mind games were pure torture. "Please, just stop."

"I am bored of this. So, back to what we were saying before. You still have not given me an answer," Calaen said. "Why did you draw these pictures of my mother?"

The child looked up, and his silver eyes flashed. "Because she was _my_ mother, and there is nothing that you can say which will make me think that she wasn't. If she was here, Cal, then she would not love you any more. She would hate you for doing this."

Calaen's eyes narrowed. "Shut up."

"Not this time," Legolas said vehemently. "I am going to Ada tomorrow, and I am going to tell him everything. And then he will also hate you."

"Shut up."

"No. And then I will tell Airëlus, and _he_ will hate you," the little Prince spat. All the anger and hurt that he had felt over the past months was finally coming to the surface. He did not care for the price he would have to pay. "And then everyone will hate you. No-one will love you, and it will be your fault. Yours!"

Calaen leaned forwards, and caught the front of Legolas' sleeping tunic. "Do you want to run that by me again?"

"Everyone will…they will…" The child looked away, and shook his head. Of course he did not mean it. He knew that his words meant nothing, and he prayed that the other Elf would also see it that way.

"You said that everyone would hate me."

Calaen's voice was low and dangerous, and as he looked into his brother's green eyes, Legolas felt real fear for the first time in his life. He was dimly aware of the trembling of his own body, and he tried hard to stop it. But he could not. And then suddenly, without warning, the dark haired Prince pulled him from the bed, and threw him to the ground.

"I will make you pay for that!" Calaen hissed.

Legolas tried to get back to his feet, but was immediately pushed down again. "I'm sorry," he said desperately.

"So am I," Calaen said in a low voice.

He paused, and the two locked eyes for a moment. And then without pausing to consider his actions, he pulled his fist back, and swung it into the Elfling's face. Legolas cried out as his lip split, and blood ran into his mouth. Tears immediately filled his eyes, but they stirred no emotion in Calaen – he struck his brother two more times, and kicked him in the chest.

Legolas pulled his arms over his head and curled in on himself, trying to both protect himself and still the pain. This had never happened before, and he had never expected it to. Cruel words and mocking laughter: yes. But this? He began to cry softly, hoping and praying that this was all he would get, that Calaen would do no more.

"You will think twice about saying such things in the future, will you not?" the elder Prince growled. When there was no answer, he leaned down and grabbed the child by his hair. "Will you not?"

"I'm sorry," Legolas sobbed. "Please, no more."

Calaen threw his brother from him, and watched through narrowed eyes as the Elfling curled up again on the floor. "Ah, look at it crying."

Legolas shuddered at the name, and wiped some tears away. "Don't call me that," he whispered.

"Why not? Because that is all you are to me," Calaen said cruelly. "In fact, you are not even an it. You are nothing. You are not my brother." He paused, and looked down at the small Prince. "Now, are you going to tell anyone about this?"

"They…they will see my cut," Legolas said shakily, trying hard to control his tears.

Calaen rolled his eyes, and reached down to catch the child's face. "Let me see it. Alright, you get back in that bed, and if the door opens, you pretend to be asleep until you know who it is."

Legolas pushed himself unsteadily up so that he was resting on his hands. "I don't understand."

"Get into bed. I will be back in five minutes or so," Calaen replied. "But if I get caught roaming the corridors at this time of night, then I will be blaming you."

The young Prince wanted to point out the unfairness of that, but he was both too afraid and in too much pain to do so. He was still as his brother left the room, but as soon as the door was silently closed once more, he stood shakily, and made his way over to his oak wardrobe. He held a hand to his aching chest, and with the other, he rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.

Blinking back tears, Legolas turned and went back to bed, making sure that he lay facing away from the door, just in case Thranduil or Airëlus should come in. He wiped some blood from his lip, and hugged the blanket that his mother had made him, close to his chest.

"I am so scared, Nana," he whispered. "I wish that you were here. But even if you were, I don't know if you could help me, because I wouldn't be able to tell you what's happening. I want all of this to stop, but I can't tell Ada either. If I did, then Calaen would…I don't know what he'd do."

Legolas sniffed, and held the blanket tighter. "He has changed so much. I love him because he is my brother, but I am afraid of him, and I hate him also. Is that wrong of me? Maybe. But I can't help it, I just…I just hate who he is, who he has become.

"He tells me things. He says things that hurt me," the child continued slowly. "Today he told me that I…No, I don't want to say it. But it made me cry, Nana. I don't believe him, but it still upset me. He will be coming back soon, I think. I don't know where he went, but before he left, he…"

Legolas raised a hand and swiped at his eyes. "Before Calaen left, he hit me. I have never been hit like that before, and it hurts so much. He doesn't want anyone to find out about this, but I think that Ada and Airëlus will see the cut on my lip. That will make him even angrier, and maybe he will hurt me again. I don't want that."

The child drew in a sharp breath as the door handle suddenly turned. "That might be him. I love you, Nana."

Legolas pushed the blanket under his pillows and immediately lay still again, making sure to keep his breathing even. As the door opened, some blood from his split lip ran into his mouth, and he desperately wanted to spit it out. But he forced himself to keep still. It seemed an age before the door closed again.

"It is me."

The child say up, and watched warily as Calaen came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Where did you go?" he asked softly.

"I got you this," the dark haired Elf replied, passing his brother a cup of water. "Drink it. It will help to calm you down. When you have finished, let me clean up that blood."

"Why" Legolas asked quietly.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to clean the blood?"

Calaen laughed cruelly. "Do you think it is because I wish to make you feel better? No. It is because if that cut is not healed by the morning, then Ada will realise that something happened. And we do not want that, do we?"

"No," Legolas whispered. He took a few sips of the water to try and calm himself, as his brother had said it would do. But it helped little. He sighed deeply, and put the cup onto the desk beside his bed.

"Alright, this will sting a little bit," Calaen said, lifting a damp cloth and holding it against the Elfling's lip. "But it will heal you."

Legolas closed his eyes tightly as he was tended to. It seemed as though the elder Prince's temper had cooled down, but still, he knew that he had to be careful. The smallest thing could set him off again, and that was the last thing that the already hurt child wanted.

"I do not understand you, Legolas," Calaen said slowly. "You know that I get angry with you, so why do you do these things?"

"I don't mean to," the Elfling whispered. "Before everything changed, there was nothing I could do that would make you want to hurt me."

"But that's just it," Calaen sighed. "Things _have_ changed. _I _have changed. You know that."

Legolas looked up, and shook his head slowly. "Will you ever get better?"

"I am not ill!" the dark haired Elf snapped.

"But you have a problem."

Calaen threw the cloth at his brother, and stood up angrily. He began pacing up and down in front of the bed. "Do not speak of things that you know nothing of. Stay out of my life, Legolas. I do not want you in it."

"But I am," the Elfling said softly. "I _am _in your life. If you really hate it that much, then do something about it."

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Calaen asked.

Legolas nodded slowly. "You have hurt me, and you are still hurting me. You will probably carry on hurting me. Why? Is it building up to something?"

"What do you mean by that?" Calaen snapped.

"My tutor told me that everything is done for a reason. Like…" Legolas fell silent as he tried to remember the example that Ameldir had given him. "Oh yes. If there are soldiers who train everyday, they don't do it for fun. They do it because there will be a battle, and that is what they are building up for."

Calaen stopped pacing, and looked carefully at his younger brother. "So, what are you saying?"

"Is all this hurt building up to something else?" Legolas asked softly.

"By the Valar, you think that…you think that I would…would kill you?" Calaen drew in a deep breath, and shook his head. "Do not be so stupid."

"But am I being stupid? I don't know what to think any more, I am so afraid now. So, if you said that you _did_ want to kill me, then I…I would not be surprised," Legolas said quietly.

Calaen stood in silence, running over what had been said to him. He had enough power – both physical and emotional – to hurt, but…kill? Such a thought had never even entered his mind. And as he looked into his brother's eyes, he wondered if he would ever be able to do something like that. It would take a lot.

"Would you kill me?" Legolas asked softly.

The dark haired Elf shook himself mentally, and narrowed his eyes. "No. You see, I am not like you. I would not commit murder."

Legolas did not reply. He knew that his question had caught the elder Prince off guard, and at first, Calaen had been more than surprised. The Elfling himself did not and would not believe for one second that his brother would even contemplate trying to take his life. But all he had wanted was to see a reaction. And he had got one.

"You are taking up too much of my time," Calaen said coldly.

"You do not have to be here," Legolas replied.

The elder Elf stormed over to the door, and was just about to wrench it open. But then he paused, as he realised that the sound of it would echo through the corridor. Yet he could not just walk calmly from the room without another word – that would seem to be weakness on his part. He turned back to his brother, and smiled.

"I would not kill you, Legolas," he said softly. "Not yet. But neither of us can foresee the future, can we?"

Without waiting for an answer, Calaen left the room in silence, and softly closed the door behind him. Legolas let out a deep breath he had not known he held, and closed his eyes in despair. His brother had sounded deadly serious, and when the dark haired Prince of Mirkwood sounded deadly serious, the Elfling knew to be on his guard.

Legolas sighed, and pulled his mother's blanket from under the pillows. He lay down again, holding it close. "I know you would not hate Calaen if you were here. And I know that Ada and Airëlus would never hate him either. Please forgive me for saying that. But Nana, please forgive Calaen also – for what he is doing now, and what he will do in the future."

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**Lombadia Greenleaf: **EastEnders is a British soap that has been running for nearly twenty years. Its set in East London, and it's the best thing on British TV! Except, most of the time, the storylines are really depressing and angsty. Its rare to get a happy storyline! Only tonight, a family got kicked out their home and this one guy saw his adopted daughter kissing her brother. Nice, hmm?!

**Jedi Gollum: **Well, I'll send you an e-mail after Christmas telling you about the stories I have planned, cos otherwise it'll take ages here! But don't worry. They'll be full of angst, and the main characters will, as usual, be Legolas, Thranduil, and probably the Rivendell lot. I'll e-mail you about it!

**Halimanya: **No, I think that the Xmas party last year was better. But did you not see the actual episode? Oh no! It was really good! There was this really amazing plot twist with the money that Sam had collected for Phil. It turns out that Marcus was only using Phil as an excuse. He took off with all the money!!!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yeah, I thought that bit was amazing. I love it when men cry, but my friend thinks that it just makes them look really stupid. She also thinks that when male actors cry, it looks really fake. Like, Sam crying in ROTK, and stuff like that. I really like it, though! Oh yeah, as to what else you said. Berian went off to Rivendell, and then in 'Jealousy' he came back and did that thing for Calaen, and then when Calaen left, he became one of his followers.

**Utsuri: **Well, in England, Boxing Day is the day after Christmas Day. It's celebrated because in the 18th Century, Lords and Ladies would 'box up' their leftover food and gifts, and give them to people who worked on their lands. It's also a traditional day for fox hunting, but that doesn't count now, because Parliament has put a ban on fox hunting. I actually didn't know all this – I had to look it up on the Internet. But at least I know now!

**Kelsey Estel: **Don't worry about it! I totally know what its like to be busy! I had two drama exams a couple of weeks ago, and then I had to do a twenty page report on how the performances went and everything. I just wanted to die!

**Legolas-gurl88: **I just read the e-mail that you sent me, and I saw the e-card. It nearly made me cry! I'll try and reply to you later, but as its Christmas Eve, there's loads to do where food is concerned, so I'm not sure if I'll have the chance. So if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, you'll know why!

Right, this is the penultimate chapter. I was thinking about leaving it here, but I have decided to put an epilogue up. That will be up within a couple of days. I know I said that it would be up tonight, but as its Christmas, it's hard to find time to type. But don't worry – it will be up in no more than three days.

Misto

x-x

PS: Happy Christmas! Have a great day tomorrow, everyone!


	37. Epilogue

Legolas never did tell his father about the night that Calaen came into his room. It remained a secret between them, one that was never mentioned again. But that became par for the course with the two brothers – something or other would happen, and only their eyes, when they met the next day, would speak of it.

Days turned into weeks; weeks turned into months; and months slowly turned into years. And as each day passed, Calaen's feelings towards Legolas increased. The dreams continued. Every night he would be haunted by images that he could not control: Findilan's death, his younger brother's part in it, a faceless human being, himself being ignored by the King and Crown Prince – and all the upset and anger that he felt the next morning would be directed at Legolas.

Some nights he would lie in bed, hoping and praying that sleep would evade him. But always it came, along with the dreams. And at times he wondered if he was the only one in the whole of Middle Earth who suffered in such a way, if he was the only one whose fate it was to live like this.

One would think that any fear he had felt at being unloved by Thranduil and Airëlus would all have vanished after the conversations he had had with them, the reassurances they had given. But that was not the case. In fact, it was far from it.

He became paranoid. If ever the King or Crown Prince should look at him in a way that he deemed to be anything other than love or kindness, his heart would skip beats, his mouth would run dry, and he would have to spend hours alone, working hard to convince himself that it was just paranoia, nothing more and nothing less.

And Legolas caused great problems for him. The child was a natural trouble maker, he did not doubt that. But Thranduil and Airëlus were often fooled by his act, and Calaen was filled with painful thoughts that they loved his brother more than he himself. And so he continued in the way that he had done for a long time – doing small things to land the Elfling into unavoidable trouble. It was petty. But it worked.

Even after Findilan had died, he had still felt some form of love for Legolas, even though he taunted and hurt him. But as time passed, it faded, until eventually it was overruled by hatred and jealousy. It fell to the bottom of his heart, the very depths of his soul, and only when he strained his memory was he able to recall what it felt like.

Calaen's story is a sad one. When his mother died, so did he. He tried to bring himself back to life, but his soul had already been stolen by jealousy. It was jealousy that made him do what he did, jealousy that made others pay for his own vicissitude. And the price that they would come to pay in the future, was one that no-one, not even Calaen himself, could ever guess.

It was once said that everything happens for a reason. One thing is gone purely because it is building up to something more. When Legolas spoke those words, he had no idea how much truth there was to them. There _was_ more to come. _Much _more. But that… Well, that is another story.

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Yes, this was a very short chapter, but as it is the last one, I didn't want to make it too long, because otherwise it would be too drawn out, and it's also short because all that it's doing is setting the scene for the two sequels, which most of you have read anyway. I couldn't say too much in this chapter, because I'm aware that there are a few people who have not read the sequels, so don't know what happens.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I couldn't have done it without your help: **Haldir's Heart and Soul, Lady Leeanne, Emandm, Jedi Gollum, Irish Anor, That Undomiel Chick, Vicki Turner, Elven Kitten, Coolio02, Warriormaid 3000, Jopru, Legolas-gurl88, Kathysidle, Kelsey, Jennifer, Rutu, Galadriel1010, Aranel of Mirkwood, October Sky, Eleanor Rigby, Deana, Elfobsession2931, Rachel13, Pippin the hobbit-elf, Melda Amarie, Elensar32, Lombadia Greenleaf, Arayelle Lynn, Halimanya, Wadeva, BitterLee, Arienis, Melony, Vanessa, Utsuri, Nautika, IwishChan, Little-Legolas-Lover, Kel, and On&onanon.**

Right, now I'll answer some reviews!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **No, he didn't. After turning up in Mirkwood in the last chapter, or second to last chapter, he went with Calaen, and became one of his followers. He started off as just a random person who happened to be in league with Cal, but this story has developed him a lot more.

**Legolas-gurl88: **Yep, Christmas is over in a way, but we've still got so much food to get through, and the shops are still playing Christmas music, and the decorations are still up! I think it'll be this way for another week or so!

**Halimanya: **No, Zoe isn't pregnant. She's lying so that Dennis will stay with her. I think that's really unfair. And I think its unfair that Den knows about it, but he's keeping the truth from his own son. Mean!

**Jedi Gollum: **Hope you had fun watching ROTK EE! And did you get my e-mail? I sent you one yesterday.

**Kelsey Estel: **Thanks for pointing that out! Yeah, I can see the sense in that actually. I'll change that bit so that it reads something else. Thanks!

Well, this is it. There's no more Calaen and Airëlus. I've had so much fun writing both of them, and it's strange, because both of them mean a lot to me, more than any other characters I've made up. But then I worked out the other day that I've been writing them and this whole jealousy storyline for eleven months. So I guess that has something to do with it.

I have more stories planned, so I'm not stopping here. I started writing one on Boxing Day, and have decided to not put anything up here until February 1st, so that'll give me just over a whole month to get a lot of chapters written. It is an angsty one (of course!) and the main characters will be Legolas, Thranduil, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel. And a few others. But that's all I'm saying about it.

So, I guess this is it for a month!

Bye bye!

Misto

x-x


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